


The Blight Twins and The Curse Of The Flustered Mess

by dekompensation



Category: The Owl House (Cartoon)
Genre: Amity is cursed too (not really), Amity is smart, Comedy, Edric Blight Needs a Hug, Edric is cursed (not really), Edric is... we love Edric anyway, Emira is cursed (not really), Emira is flustered, Emira is rich, F/F, Family Bonding, Gen, Jerbo is good at giving Edric hugs, Light-Hearted, Lumity is in the background, M/M, Mutual Pining, Romantic Comedy, The Mutual Pining is for Edric and Jerbo, Viney is confident
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:53:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 28,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28713846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dekompensation/pseuds/dekompensation
Summary: Emira Blight is rich, smart, and athletic. She is calm, collected, and confident — a prized student, a skilful illusionist, a fantastic financist. She has good looks, good grades, and a great sense of humour.So why can’t Emira talk to the girl she likes? Every time she’s around Viney, her cheeks get red, her breath is stuck in her throat, and her body temperature is on its way to lava levels.There’s only one possible explanation: Emira is cursed. And, after talking to her brother Edric, she realises the Curse might run in the family.
Relationships: Amity Blight & Edric Blight & Emira Blight, Amity Blight/Luz Noceda, Edric Blight/Jerbo, Emira Blight/Viney
Comments: 136
Kudos: 279





	1. In which Emira Blight accepts the reality of being a Beetroot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emira tries to talk to Viney like a normal person.

“Did you talk to Viney?”

Emira is fully invested in scrolling. Her new, shiny scroll is _way_ more important than talking about some random cute adorable wonderful incredibly beautiful girl from the Double Track. Even if Emira is actively scrolling Viney’s Penstagram. Full of cute, wonderful pictures of Viney and her pet griffin. But mostly Viney and her abs.

“Em, I’m talking to you.”

And, naturally, Viney’s Penstagram is way more important than her brother, who is looming over her as she’s lying back on the highly comfortable newly-purchased sofa. So she keeps up, without paying attention to Edric and whatever he’s blabbering about.

“Emiraaaaaaaaaa—”

Okay. Now Edric’s wailing is something she _has_ to take into consideration. Because, if nothing stops him, horrible things will happen. Windows will shatter, cities will burn, innocents will die. Starting with Edric himself. 

Emira finally dignifies her brother with a reply. “I am purposefully evading your questions.” 

The older Blight immediately plops down on the sofa, eliciting a grunt of mild displeasure from his sister. On a scale from zero to murdering Edric with a rusty spear Emira is hitting a steady six. “Come oooooon, Em! You promised me you would talk to her!”

“No I didn’t.” Emira tries to push off the offender from the only sofa in the newly-purchased (and newly-remodelled) apartment. _We’ll definitely buy more sofas, first order of business._ “I’m very busy, Ed, trying to think about what to do with all this fortune. So shush, I have work to do!”

Edric looks over her shoulder, and as much as Emira tries to hide the screen from him, shows a pleased, smug grin. “Your ‘work’ is staring dreamily at Viney’s photos instead of asking her out?”

“If you had a friend you were into, of course you would sometimes look at their page,” Emira reasons, trying to close a very particular tab with a very particular photo of Viney she has open. “Oh, wait, you totally do, staring at Jerbo’s page for hours and what-not.”

“Jerbo doesn’t have a Penstagram, these are our private photos,” Edric grumbles, looking over his sister’s shoulder before she manages to hide the scroll. “Nice abs Viney has on her. In that outfit! All that running must be paying off.”

Emira’s displeasure is crawling towards a precarious seven. “Ed, I love you but I will not hesitate to murder you, I hope you know it.”

“Makes sense,” the green-haired boy nods, jumping off the newly-purchased sofa onto the newly-purchased carpet. “You’d wanna get all that money we inherited all to yourself. I get it.”

Emira grunts and closes Penstagram. Edric is infuriating and, unless she wants to murder him and join her parents in prison, she should just give him what he wants and talk to him. “I never promised you I would talk to Viney.”

“Yes you did,” Edric counters, standing in the middle of the as-of-yet-empty living room and tugging at his clownish yellow tie. “You said ‘Sure, I’ll talk to her when pigs fly’.”

“So?”

“It’s already flying pig season in Bonesborough!” Edric shows her the calendar, but Emira knows already. “Come on, you _have to_ tell the girl about your feelings! You’ve been best friends for a year!”

“First, her best friend is Jerbo,” Emira says, taking a tiny mental note at how her brother blushes for a second at the mention of the boy’s name. “And second, I don’t want to lose her as a friend, so I’m _not_ gonna talk to her about my crush on her. It’s simple logic.”

“First you’re too busy with the paperwork for our inheritance.” Edric marches towards the fridge in the open kitchen — which, despite being open and interlocked with the living room, is still a _way_ off. “Then you’re too busy getting us two apartments and making them into a two-storey one.” The witch takes a human-produced juice out of the fridge. “Then it’s remodelling, then it’s investing… You. Have. To. Tell. Her.”

“What part of ‘possibly losing my friend by confessing to her’ did you not get?” Emira looks around the painfully-empty first floor of their apartment, which she saved for last — after decorating the rooms upstairs, the living room looks just… desolate. _I need to get another sofa in here very soon._

“I guess the part where you realise that every day you go on without telling her the truth is basically you lying to your friend?”

Even though Edric’s voice is distorted by the distance — and the juice in his mouth — Emira knows that her stupid, horrible brother is right.

And the brother in question seems to know it too, sipping on his juice on the edge of the living room, grinning around the straw, a ridiculous white vest worn over an orange long-sleeve shirt. _Edric never had a sense of fashion, did he. All this freedom is only enabling him._

“Okay, sheesh,” Emira sighs, rubbing her temples as she feels a headache surfacing. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”

_______________

Nope, Emira is _not_ going to talk to Viney today. 

Walking through Hexside after classes, she’s almost at the exit — and it just so happens that today she hasn’t had the chance to see Viney. Because they don’t share classes, and because Emira doesn’t go to the cafeteria. And because Emira has been avoiding Viney the whole day. It has _nothing_ to do with nerves.

Emira just has too much on her mind, that’s all. It’s been merely a few months since their parents’ hearing where they were sentenced to life in prison for assisting Belos. It’s been just a few months since she, a sixteen-year-old, came into a multi-billion fortune. Well, technically, she _and_ Edric, but, knowing Edric, he might as well put “Honorary Doofus” on his CV for managing finances. 

Emira poured all her time, soul, and sanity into developing a savings’ plan that would allow the three of them to live their lives without ever thinking about money. Emira spent days and nights going over investment strategies, committing to paperwork, and remodelling the apartment. 

Because, with the Blight Manor holding too many painful memories for her, and Amity, and especially Edric — who was always bottling up more emotions than anyone — Emira needed to move them out of that dreadful place, and buying out two floors in a condo seemed like the perfect solution. 

The only problem being the remodelling — which took more than money. It took her sleep, her power, and her ability to look at colours and shades the way she used to. Now, for Emira, every tint either falls into ‘fits into the colour scheme’ or ‘doesn’t fit into the colour scheme’. There’s no more beauty in colour anymore, only mundane utilitarianism.

So, after all, she is exhausted enough as it is, way too busy to talk to Viney about how she truly feels about the gorgeous girl.

And it has _nothing_ to do with the fact that every time Emira is around Viney her heart is racing, the temperature around her rises to solar levels, and her cheeks are reaching a fine beetroot colour. 

“Hi, Em!”

Emira freezes on the spot, almost out of the school. Slowly, she turns towards the source of the greeting, seeing, first, the gorgeous brown hair, then the mesmerising green eyes, and then the love-inducing ears, one of which is pierced with a signature hook. There is no doubt it’s Viney.

Just like there is no doubt that, if there truly is a Beetroot nation somewhere on the Isles, at this point Emira is their Queen.

The green-haired witch tries to take a breath, her face, no doubt, shining with the stupidest smile imaginable. She does not notice the students walking by her, her gaze fixated on the smiling girl in front of her. The girl she needs to talk to. ‘ _Talk’ talk, not the usual chat. Not the usual gushing. Not the usual losing-my-mind-over-her-words. I need to talk THE talk._

A couple of seconds pass, and Emira knows there is _no_ way she’ll talk the Real Talk to Viney today. Or ever. She needs to take it slow. Even slower than she’s already taking it. Much, much slower. All she needs to do is go back into the familiar territory of being a flustered mess and try to make a coherent conversation. It’s a good first step, and she can do it.

This should be simple. Emira has rehearsed it, she has all the notes. Glancing at the note peeking out of her sleeve, the tall witch gulps. _Hi, Viney, how are your classes?_ And, again, she repeats mentally, for good measure, _Hi, Viney, how are your classes?_

_Okay, I’m ready._

“Classes!” Emira blurts out cheerfully. 

_Or not._

The other girl giggles, and Emira feels like dying just a tiny bit. “Sorry, what?”

“What,” Emira repeats, her Beetroot ancestry obviously showing up as her cheeks go red and she begins to hyperventilate ever so slightly. 

“What?” Viney wiggles her brow. It’s obviously a friendly gesture, intended to make Emira feel better. Except Emira is probably slightly tachycardic at this point, and her blood pressure is way above the normal level.

The green-haired witch wants to reply with another ‘what’, but feels like it’s already been way more ‘whats’ than what’s considered socially acceptable.

So she glances at her paper again. _Hi, Viney— no, we’re past that point now. ‘How are your classes?’_ She can do this. _‘How are your classes?’ I can do this. ‘How are your classes?’_

“You’re classy! How are you?”

_Almost! Almost there._

Still, the result is better than Emira was expecting, because Viney smiles with her perfect gorgeous luscious lips and her blinding shining fascinating teeth, and semi-shrugs her beautiful wonderful athletic shoulders.

“Thanks, it’s always nice to hear a pretty girl call me ‘classy’!” 

Emira has peaked. This is it, it doesn’t get better than this. Her inheriting billions of snails after their parents went to jail for assisting Belos? Nothing. Her about to graduate with an almost-perfect record, beaten only by her own sister? Pebbles under her feet. The most beautiful and intelligent witch smiling at her and _flirting_ with her — now that’s the greatest moment of her existence.

_A tiny Emira appears in her head, her swimsuit on as she enters a large pool filled with plushies of Viney and, taking a running start, jumps in._

_“Ah, this is the life,” the tiny Emira sighs, taking a sip from a glass that has ‘Viney Juice’ written over it._

The real Emira blinks. _This sounds so wrong, on so many levels._

“I’m fine, back from Med—” Viney starts talking about her classes as she drags her friend outside, but all Emira can focus on is the wonderful hand on her elbow, and the wonderful smile that’s gracing that wonderful face of the wonderful girl who’s dragging her outside and blabbering about her classes.

And Emira cannot concentrate, because her face is red, her heart is racing, and her face is on its way past the normal beetroot colour. _Maybe I’m not a Beetroot_ , Emira muses as she completely loses herself in everything that is Viney. _Maybe I’m just cursed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading! 
> 
> As part of my exploration into The Curse Of The Flustered Mess and how it affects the poor Blights, I have decided to write a story exploring the trope from the viewpoint of Edric and Emira. And Viney and Jerbo, naturally.
> 
> This story is completely stand-alone, but, just in case you might want to read in detail how Amity has been dealing with this particular 'Curse' in her relationship with Luz over the years, you can read my other story, _Luz Noceda's Middle Name_. It's on my profile, and sorry if sounds like self-promotion! In fact, the two stories only share the same setting, but aren't a tight tie-in necessary to enjoy either fic.
> 
> So I hope you did enjoy this little silly idea of mine, and please tell me your opinion in the comments. (If you want to and have the time, of course!) As for updates, I finally have an avatar, which signifies my ceaseless devotion to regular updates (no it doesn't), so I am going to try to update at least 8 times a month (haha who am I kidding). 
> 
> Thank you again for taking your time to read this!


	2. In which Edric proves that his fashion sense is impeccable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emira gushes to Edric about Viney, and Viney talks to Jerbo about Emira.

“I’m pretty sure I’m cursed.”

Edric doesn’t even grace his sister with a glance as he’s trying to tie a pink spotted bow tie around a (wonderfully distasteful) green V-neck sweater. “Really? What gave you the impression?”

Emira plops down on her bed, groaning in exasperation as she buries her face in Edric’s pillow. Which, as she has mentioned to Edric numerous times, is the only part of the bedroom that doesn’t ‘look like a madman threw paint all over and then invited a friendly (but delirious) designer to help with the furniture’. 

Sometimes Emira can be exceptionally verbose. Even poetic. Except when it comes down to talking to her crush, and it’s only understandable that Edric teases her for that endlessly. That’s what siblings do, after all.

Besides, it isn’t very nice of her, going into his room like this and using his wonderful silk pillows. Then again, as the responsible and mature big brother, Edric is happy to let it slide. As long as she doesn’t comment on his fashion sense. He’s already gotten chastised by Amity — of all people.

_Who says I can’t be fashionable without being trendy?_

“Well, let’s see,” Emira mumbles into the pillow, and anyone else would pretty much only hear ‘Mm, lmm fmm’, but Edric is a trained brother with two sisters, one of whom has been mumbling into his pillow for sixteen years. So he is a bit of an expert on these things.

“First, I can’t speak like a normal person when I’m around her!” Thankfully, Emira rolls over, making it much easier to understand her.

“Uhuh.” The pin goes in the wrong direction, and the bow tie falls apart. _How do they even do it without pins in the human realm?_ “Well, you never speak like a normal person.”

“That’s not what I mean, you idiot.” Emira throws a pillow — Edric’s pillow! — at her brother ( _the audacity!_ ), but he’s skilful enough to avoid it without turning around. “I mean, I start blabbering and misusing words, and sometimes I just repeat what she says!”

“Interesting.” Edric is still not sold on the whole ‘Curse’ thing. “You’re talking about Viney, right?”

“Of course I’m talking about Viney! She’s the most wonderful, beautiful, sexy, adorable, intelligent person in the world!” 

Edric is pretty sure Emira has just described his friend Jerbo but decides it’s better to humour her. “So… What are your other symptoms, Em?”

Emira huffs, and Edric can see her roll her eyes even with his back turned. Okay, he can see it because he’s in front of the mirror. But still. 

“Symptoms? You’re not a doctor, Ed. Viney, though, she _is_ a doctor, I mean, she is _almost_ a doctor, you won’t believe how good she is at doctor stuff, like once I had a bruise and—”

“And Viney kissed it to make it all better?” Edric is smug, and that is his demise, because the next pillows lands precisely at the back of his head, putting his hard work on the bow tie to end. 

_I’ll just put on a silk scarf._ Edric finally turns around, and sees that his sister’s cheeks have actually attained a reddish colour. “Wow, you get this way around Viney too?”

“Much worse. Much redder,” Emira admits.

Edric blinks. “Wow. That’s… very obvious.”

“That’s what I’m telling you!” The female witch groans again in exasperation and rolls over — but thankfully there are no more pillows that she could stain with her despair. “I’m cursed.”

“I don’t think so.” Edric shakes his head.

“Really?” Emira mocks her brother, mimicking his words and tone perfectly, “What gave you the impression?”

“Well, because if you have a Curse, that means I have the same Curse,” Edric replies simply, walking over to his wardrobe. _There must be a violet silk scarf somewhere…_

“How come?” Emira is now on her belly, her legs kicking around, bent in the knees. “You figure it runs in the family?”

Edric is still not buying the whole Curse thing, but he decides to humour his forgetful sister — after all, she has had a lot on her mind recently. “Remember when we realised that our parents were making us really miserable?”

“Yes, we were ten.” Emira doesn’t look pleased, but neither does she look angry. “Well, they’re gone, so we can work over that. Why, do you need a hug?”

One could take that as a joke — especially knowing their dynamic. But in reality the siblings are not all pranks and jokes, and Edric is actually thankful for this small tradition the three of them — Emira, Amity, and him — have: every time one of them offers or needs a hug, it’s serious time. No jokes, no teasing, no superficially brushing off problems. 

Thankfully, Edric does not need a hug right now — and he would never abuse the privilege. “No, I mean, on that day we found that old binding spell. So that whatever happens to one of us, will happen to the other one.”

“Ah, of course,” Emira grunts, smacking her forehead with a palm. “Makes sense why we always catch a cold at the same time.”

“See?” Edric has finally settled on a scarf and is now looking at his sister kindly. “So since I don’t have a curse, you don’t have it either.”

Emira rubs her chin, then taps her index finger against her lips. “Maybe you have it, but haven’t experienced it yet. Can’t you try it with Jerbo?”

Edric freezes and drops the scarf, which gracefully lands on the floor. “Haa! W-why would it, I mean the Curse, why would I have it with Jerbo?”

The bigger question is why he is hot and slightly hyperventilating, but Edric is _not_ gonna ask his sister that. 

“Oh I don’t know,” Emira grins. “Because you have a crush on him and you’re already showing signs of the Curse?”

Of course Edric has a crush on Jerbo, but what helps him act normal around the guy is the fact that Jerbo is definitely, positively, one hundred and fifty percent _not_ into guys. And even if he is, he is not into Edric. So the only time he can think about his friend that way is when he’s alone.

And then Edric thinks about the times when he really _thinks_ about Jerbo, and realises that maybe, there is, perhaps, just a tiny teeny teetsy possibility that he does get slightly flustered when he pictures actually dating Jerbo.

But then again, who wouldn’t? Jerbo is extraordinarily smart, cute beyond belief, and — most importantly — Jerbo is always kind towards Edric, always supportive, and always there for him.

“I’ll, uh, try to hit on him a bit, just to test your theory.” Edric is breathing slowly, but it isn’t helping much. _I need another cooling spell in the bedroom._ “Just some friendly flirting, to prove the Curse isn’t, um, real.” 

“Aha.” Emira is grinning, and it’s stupid and dumb and infuriating. “Sure thing, Ed. Sure thing.”

_______________

“I’m pretty sure Emira is into me.” 

Jerbo looks up from his flower pot, where he’s been meticulously planting seeds for the past ten minutes. The light is dim, but the young scientist apprentice navigates his way through soil without looking.

“Really?” the boy smirks, carefully saturating the soil with exactly ten drops of enchanted water. “What gave you the impression?”

“Well, let’s see.” Viney smirks back, letting her pet griffin go.

Puddles the griffin takes a leap and, spreading his wings, gives the three friends a wide lap in the sky before taking off. Viney looks at him with adoration — which is nowhere near the adoration on her face when she starts talking about Emira.

“She blushes every time I say something that might be taken as a compliment.” Viney smiles dreamily. “Her face just turns red — people don’t usually do that. And she gets all flustered, but not the usual flustered where you’re stammering. Emira just starts misusing her words, and it’s cute and endearing and adorable~”

Barcus looks up from where he’s reading under a portable light spell and just growls slyly. 

“Yeah,” Jerbo agrees, creating a water illusion to wash his hands, “we all know Viney is head over heels for Emira Blight.”

“Oh shut up, you two.” Viney laughs, fishing her scroll out. “Don’t be cruel. Of course I want to ask her out, but I’m afraid she’ll accidentally damage herself if I do. I need to be very, _very_ gentle with her.”

“Is this why you are sending her a selfie captioned ‘thinking of you, cutie’?” Jerbo asks, looking over his friend’s shoulder.

“Yes.” Viney smiles fondly as she glances at her scroll lockscreen — which is a picture of her and Emira. “Exactly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading, thank you for your kudos and comments! It's always a pleasure to read your input, and I reply to every comment. Also, as I already mentioned, I'll try to update as often as I can, but I don't really have an exact schedule. I do have the story outlined like maybe a couple of in-story weeks in advance. Thank you again for taking your time to read this story of mine!


	3. In which Jerbo questions his foolproof logic and scientific reasoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edric Blight tries to prove that there is no Curse. 

Jerbo doesn’t like Edric that way.

Of course he doesn’t like him _that way_ , because Edric is his friend. And Jerbo is not supposed to feel all warm and fuzzy around his friend, aching to hold him close and kiss every part of his beautiful body.

And yes, Jerbo doesn’t like Ed the way he likes Viney and Barcus, because they are his _best_ friends. So, naturally, the way Jerbo likes Edric is bound to be slightly different. That is the only reason why he feels this way when Edric is around, throwing his ridiculous jokes, drinking from two juice boxes at once, skipping classes or running around like a madman pretending to be a superhero.

Jerbo is almost a scientist, in his final year, so he knows that everything has a reasonable, logical explanation. Such as him feeling warm and fuzzy inside every time he is around Edric Blight.

As an almost-scientist, Jerbo also knows when his logic and reasoning are flawed. Because he likes Edric, he likes Edric _a lot_ , and he definitely likes Edric _that_ way.

The boy shakes his head, closing his locker — which is pretty tame, compared to most lockers at Hexside — and begins to walk off towards the exit. Even if Edric is cute, and funny, and exceptionally handsome, there is no possibility of the eldest Blight reciprocating romantic feelings because there is no possibility of Edric _having_ any romantic feelings towards Jerbo. Because Edric is not even attracted to guys, and Jerbo is happy being Edric’s friend as it is.

Of course, it is fun to nurture the possibility of holding Edric’s hand and rubbing circles into it with his thumb, then kiss into it, moving upwards and upwards… Every time the beautiful boy grabs Jerbo by the elbow in excitement, Jerbo never wants him to let go. It is even more fun to think about Edric grabbing him by the waist, pressing his lips against his…

The young witch groans loudly, taking a deep breath of fresh, crispy air once he’s outside. It’s no use to think these thoughts because Edric is not into guys. If he were — theoretically — that could mean Jerbo has a tiny, miniscule chance of dating him — and even so, someone as handsome and gorgeous and funny as Ed will never ever like him back.

_______________

Edric knows there is no Curse.

The Curse is not real, and Edric is sure of it. But, he muses as he walks towards the spot where Jerbo is supposed to be waiting for him after school, he can prove Emira wrong. He can try some friendly non-romantic flirting with Jerbo, because he knows Jerbo has zero romantic feelings towards him.

Edric is confident, because he knows there’s no way in hell Jerbo likes him that way. In fact, he is absolutely sure Jerbo doesn’t even like guys that way. So, with romance being unachievable, why be bothered? Why be flustered when you know for sure the object of your admiration will never return your feelings anyway?

Isn’t it better to just remain cool and collected when talking to your friend? Because that’s what Edric does. And he is _so much better_ than Emira at this.

“Heeeeey, Jerbo, Jerbo, Jerbo!” Edric shoots finger guns at the lean boy — a usual gesture which is, as usual, not reciprocated. Or even acknowledged. “How is my favourite illusionist doing? Any cool illusions to show off, you glorious trickster?”

_And I’m not hiding behind a fake facade of cheerful buffoonery. Never._

“Why would I…” Jerbo deadpans, blinking very slowly. “We literally go to the same class.”

The boy stands up to give Edric a small hug — a greeting that usually feels normal, but today makes Edric flinch just a tiny bit. _Stupid Em and her stupid ideas about some stupid non-existent curse._

“Are you okay?” Jerbo asks, and Edric knows he is _not_ okay. 

Edric hasn’t been okay for a while, but Jerbo is the only person apart from Emira and Amity who really knows everything when it comes down to him not being okay. Because to everyone else, Edric Blight is always okay: a cheerful, light-hearted witch with a spring in his step and a grin on his face. But there is more beneath the surface, and Jerbo knows that, and today, for some reason, it makes Edric feel hot and weird.

“Well, you know, same old, same old,” Edric tries, but nothing can pass Jerbo’s kind, yet scrutinising, gaze. 

The Blight sighs. “Can’t hide anything from my perfect scientist, can I?”

_Oh no that came out as if I’m dating him, he’ll probably just—_

“So what’s wrong, Ed?”

_—not pay attention to my phrasing and carry on like the caring wonderful person he is._

Edric takes a sharp breath when Jerbo embraces him and holds him close. It happened before, Jerbo always does that when comforting him — but it was always a friendly gesture. Now, though… Now it’s the same friendly gesture, but because of Emira’s stupid ideas Edric is now thinking about Jerbo in a different manner. A romantic manner. Which is stupid, because Jerbo is not even into guys. 

_How many times do I have to repeat it to myself to believe it?_

Ed doesn’t even notice how he melts into Jerbo’s embrace, immediately feeling calm and secure, as if the boy’s arms protect him from aught and all. Forgetting all plans (and definitely forgetting stupid Emira and her idiocy) _,_ he opens up to the only person he would ever open up to — on the Boiling Isles and beyond.

“Well, I’m still working out some issues. Still wake up at night sometimes, only to remember _they_ ’re not here anymore to hurt me. Em is busy with all the money-allocating and the new apartment, and Mittens is busy with school, and I just try to soldier on, you know me.”

“I like to think I do know you.” Jerbo puts his sharp chin on Edric’s shoulder, and the green-haired witch feels like it’s the softest thing in the world. “I’m so sorry you have to go through this.”

“It’s just that my parents _were_ pretty horrible, and you know I always try to remain cheerful for my sisters’ sake.” 

It feels good confiding in Jerbo like that. Jerbo always listens, he is always validating and sympathetic, and if only he could ever like Edric _that_ way, Jerbo would be an ideal husband for eternity.

“I know, Ed. You are amazing.” Jerbo’s words seem hot today, for some reason, because Edric is sweating even though it’s chilly outside. “And it’s understandable that you still feel bad. Recovery’s a journey, and your parents did seem like horrible people.”

“Well,” Edric feels better already, “They didn’t beat me up or anything, but they were very mean, nurturing in me a sort of masculine culture I never wanted. And they did disown me for liking guys instead of girls.”

There is a silence, and then there is a realisation. On Edric’s side. A big, huge realisation that Jerbo never knew about Edric’s preferences. And then there is anxiety, and, as always, it flows out of control, starting with _what if he hates me for this_ and quickly moving on to _what if he realises I’m in love with him?_

“Wow.” Jerbo’s voice is trembling, but he doesn’t let go. “I, uh, I didn’t know. S-so, y-you like guys too?”

_Wait what. What. WHAT?!_

_A myriad of tiny Edrics appear in Edric’s mind, running around frantically, dressed in the wildest fashion. Even by Edric’s standards._

_One of them steps forth in a pirate hat with a parrot on his shoulder. “Yarr! What be the commotion?”_

_“Captain, sir!” shouts one of the tiny Edrics, stopping by, “We’ve just figured out that our crush is gay!”_

_“So?” The captain shrugs dismissively — and so does the parrot on his shoulder. “Rum is the answer — just drink yourselves into oblivion and never think about Jerbo possibly reciprocating your feelings,” he says educationally, his pirate accent gone in a heartbeat._

_“But sir!” another tiny Edric pleads, “We are sixteen and can’t drink alcohol!”_

_The tiny captain Edric blinks, then screams and starts running around with the rest of the crew._

Edric takes a sharp breath. _That did not help. At all._

“T-too?” is all he manages to say out loud — or, rather, squeak out loud. Because if Jerbo likes guys too, that means he can like Edric, and if he can like Edric, that means Edric is dead.

Edric feels weird. He often feels weird, but this ‘weird’ is different from the usual weirdness of eating too much ice-cream or hanging upside down on a tree branch for an hour. 

This weirdness comes with a package deal of increased body temperature, elevated heart rate, and an utter, complete inability to speak coherently. Very familiar symptoms, if Em is to be believed.

“Uh,” is all Edric can manage, the world around him disappearing, only a very shy and handsome and altogether wonderful Jerbo before his eyes.

“Sorry, I, uh, I never told you ‘cause it wasn’t relevant.” 

Why is Jerbo even apologising? Someone this beautiful should never apologise. 

“I mean, it’s cool that you like guys too.” The brown-haired boy rubs the back of his head sheepishly, releasing Edric from his embrace. “I mean, it doesn’t mean…” 

Doesn’t mean what? Doesn’t mean that he likes Edric back? Doesn’t mean that Edric’s genius plan for forever avoiding the issue is down the drain? Doesn’t mean that now Edric cannot utter a word to his friend because the friend in question _might_ be attracted to him, and, though it is a faint possibility, it’s still a possibility?

Meaning that the pressure is _on_ , and, while it _should_ mean that Edric needs to step up his game, in reality only solidifies the idea that the Curse, indeed, might be real. And that it might run in the family. Because being this flustered around the person you have a crush on cannot have any other possible explanation.

“I mean, we’re still friends, right, Ed?”

“Y-yes!” Edric blurts out, grabbing Jerbo’s hand with both his hands. “The friendsiest of friends! Very friends! So much friendship going on here!”

Jerbo looks at him weirdly, but does not free his hand from the taller boy’s grasp. “O-kaaay. So I was planning to get some of those soil enrichments — you good to go?”

“I’m good to go, I’m _great_ to go, I’m the best to go!” Edric boasts, springing up like a pole, beating his chest proudly. “Where are we going again?”

“To the market.” The smile on Jerbo’s face is more precious than whatever fortune Edric inherited. “You can sometimes be very silly.”

The dark-haired boy chuckles, walking past Edric, and whispers, “I find it endearing.” And brushes his hand with his fingertips ever so slightly. 

Edric is pretty sure he’s fainting at this point, but, as he follows the object of his dreams in a state of haze, one thing is clear:

The Curse is very, _very_ real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading and leaving your kudos! And super mega extra thanks to everyone who finds the time to leave a comment! Your comments are amazing, really inspiring, and I reply to each and every one. <3


	4. In which Viney sends Emira a very flirty message

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viney and Jerbo talk about the Blight Twins, and the Blight Twins try to figure out what to do. 

“He likes guys!”

Even though Jerbo is gesticulating a bit too wildly, which is a sure sign of him being overly excited, Viney still downplays the issue. “So? That should be good, right? Because you’re so into him?”

The girl ponders on what kind of message to send Emira. The surroundings do not exactly scream romance but, picturing her crush’s attractive face, Viney is once again in the mushy mood and torn between sending _Hey, cutie, I wonder what my pretty girl is doing?_ and _You’re so gorgeous and sweet that I think I get a sugar rush every time I’m around you_. 

Both are equally flirty, and both are bound to solidify the idea that Viney is, indeed, _very_ interested in dating Emira. Provided that Emira can ever emit any sound beyond ‘haaaah you cute’ and ‘wow cute girl’. Even though these flirtations are already more than enough for the young medic, she does want Emira to ease into a relationship. Provided that they can make it work. 

But of course they can make it work. After all the two of them aren’t hopeless lovelorn idiots like Jerbo and Edric.

“W-what? I’m not into—” Jerbo opens his mouth to protest, but, casting a side glance at a particularly smug Barcus, only grunts, “I sometimes hate your aura-reading powers.”

The young almost-scientist takes out his scroll, which, as expected, shows zero new messages. “He doesn’t like me that way.”

Viney smiles at her friend’s obliviousness. “And you assumed that because..?” She quickly sends a sultry text to Emira, imagining how the girl — most likely — meeps and blushes. Which is always not only adorable, but also incredibly attractive.

“Because after we came out to each other, he started acting all weird and blushy and I think he’s embarrassed to be around me.”

Viney just blinks at Jerbo, exchanging a bewildered look with Barcus. For some about to graduate and go into science, Jerbo is dubiously dense. “That’s the _definition_ of a crush, you doofus!”

“Oh yeah?” Jerbo huffs, his rosy cheeks giving away the fact that he does indeed know that Edric is crushing on him, but is just in denial. “Well, then why didn’t he text me?”

“Maybe because it’s been, like, two hours since you saw each other?” Viney suggests, and Jerbo checks the scroll automatically. _Titan, he’s soooo whipped._

Barcus offers a growl and a series of barks, and Jerbo huffs in indignation. “No way, Edric _never_ goes to bed without texting me!”

Viney rolls her eyes. _Gosh, they aren’t even dating, and they’re already a married couple._ “I swear, Jerbo, if you don’t kiss that boy by the end of year, I’ll have to show you how it’s done.”

Jerbo smirks. He can sometimes be infuriatingly smug, Viney notes. “I don’t think you kissing my crush is going to win you any points with his sister.”

“Shut up!” Viney looks away from the other two, but almost gets impaled by a pike on the wall. _We really do need to find another spot, this shed is plainly dangerous._ “I mean that as soon as Emira can get calmer around me, I’ll ask her out. And our relationship will be _way_ more romantic than yours.”

Jerbo grins, but, as soon as a message appears on his screen, his grin turns into a pleased tiny smile. “We’ll see.”

_______________

“He likes guys!”

Emira gives her brother a tiny nod, merely with her nose, not even moving her head as she tries to apply eyeliner. “Told you so. Now scoot and go kiss your Jerbo or something.”

“He _likes_ guys, do you know what it means?” Edric knows better than to plop on the sofa (still the only sofa in the apartment) when his sister is doing make-up so he sits on the edge carefully.

“Yes, it means his crush on you is just as big as your crush on him.” Emira picks up the lip gloss.

“Why are you applying makeup in the evening anyway?” Edric has the guts to ask, wearing that outrageous pink vest on top of a short-sleeved shirt. “I mean, I do it to look pretty, but why do you?”

“Oh shut up, I’m always pretty.” Emira puts the box away on one of the numerous tables that surround the only sofa. _First thing next week, I’m buying another sofa._ “I want to send Viney a selfie, and I want to look perfect in it.”

Edric scrutinises his sister for a moment, then shrugs in his shoulders-fully-up manner. “Well, you know what I’m thinking?”

“That I’m your sister and, by default, always beautiful?” Emira can see from just one glance that it is _not_ what Edric is thinking. “That Viney likes me for who I am and I don’t need to pretty up for her?”

Edric blinks slowly — which is an achievement for someone who can set a blinking record in under a minute. “I guess? I mean, I’m thinking about dolphins.”

Emira groans. “You and your human documentaries.”

“Yeah, but they were talking about gay dolphins, and I’m thinking whether gay dolphins adopt baby dolphins or if they have some sort of birthing ritual—”

“Edric,” Emira warns her brother sternly. 

“Yeah, I guess they just adopt. Dolphins seem like a pretty cool society.”

Usually Emira will tolerate her brother’s impenetrable idiocy, but today she’s had too much on her mind already to partake in the usual Blight buffoonery. So she changes the subject to something that will, no doubt, make Ed embarrassed. “So, did you ask Jerbo out like you planned to?”

Delightfully, the female witch notes how her brother’s face lights up like a red light in a human movie. “I-I didn’t plan to! I only meant to flirt a little, and then I came out accidentally and _he_ came out, and—”

“And?” Emira prods both figuratively and literally, poking her brother’s cheek.

Edric sighs and hangs his head in defeat. “And I think I got the Curse.” 

“How did you know it was the Curse?” Finally, Emira is interested, excited, even. “When exactly did it surface?”

“Well, uh,” Ed’s voice is sheepish, but his face shows less expression. “I guess when I came out to Jerbo, and he came out to me immediately after?”

 _That’s it!_ “I got it!” Emira cheers victoriously. “The moment you realised that Jerbo might be into you, right?” She shifts to her knees excitedly. “For me it was the same, the moment Viney came out to me, I started getting all flustered around her.”

“Yeah, I guess it is real, huh. The Curse, getting all flustered with no way around it.” Edric rubs his chin. “You know, it’s a pretty good name for a curse.” The boy extends his arms dreamily. “The Curse of the Flustered Mess.”

Emira smirks. “Name pending.” Then a ding from her scroll immediately draws her attention. For a moment, she freezes, then, realising what exactly Viney wrote to her, she unfreezes and then refreezes and then gets so hot she will never freeze ever again. _How in the world are we not dating yet? Oh, right. Must be my inability to talk to her like a normal person._

Quickly, she takes a selfie and sends it to her never-to-be-girlfriend. “Okay, fitting name for the curse,” Emira grumbles, indeed flustered and, indeed, a mess. “Bigger question is, how to overcome it.”

“Lemme ask Jerbo.” Edric starts typing on his scroll enthusiastically.

Emira snorts, but lets her brother send the message. “Sooo…” She grins. “You’re gonna ask your crush how to stop being flustered around your crush?”

Edric’s face does an amazing trick of shifting between red and pale, then the boy shrieks in terror. “Oh no!” He looks at the screen, horrified, no way to delete the message. “It’s not my fault the phrase ‘Hey Jerbo, I have a question’ is engraved in my muscle memory!”

Emira pats her brother on the shoulder, knowing this particular brand of muscle memory all too well. After all, she can type ‘What did you do this time, Ed?!’ in her sleep.

Struck with an idea, the male witch brightens up. “I’ll just ask him about dolphins! He’ll never know.” Immediately, Ed begins typing.

“Yeah, and we’ll never know how to beat the Curse.” Emira gets up to stretch, pacing back and forth across the (still very empty) living room, which is just begging for another sofa. “Unless…”

The idea jolts her up like a shock spell. The Curse only surfaces when she’s around her _crush_ … So if that crush were to, theoretically, become… Emira gulps. _My girlfriend._ The idea itself is enough for the Curse to kick in, but the witch takes a deep breath. “We need to ask them out.”

“What?” Edric drops the scroll, and Emira is very grateful the floor is carpeted. “Are you out of your mind? Me asking out Jerbo, the perfect guy who is probably definitely 100% _not_ into me?” He picks up the scroll, looking it over, but seems to be content with the check-up.

“Well, I’d have to ask out Viney, the perfect girl!” Emira counters. “It’s hard, but I’m pretty sure if our crushes actually become our dates, we’re gonna be cured!”

“What are you two talking about?” 

Edric jumps up on the sofa and hides his scroll with such precision that Emira snickers, realising how exactly he has practised this habit. The witch approaches her little sister, who is standing in the middle of the living room, chewing on a protein bar — her favourite human snack. ‘A treat that’s both protein _and_ fiber? With _zero_ sugar?’ 

“That sneaky carpet and those sneaky steps!” Edric grumbles, the blush in his cheeks subsiding.

“Don’t worry, Ed, I know you were just looking at pictures of some hot guys in Grudgby uniforms.” Amity finishes off the tasty (tasteless) treat. “Not interested.”

Emira knows that Jerbo does not play Grudgby so Amity is, by default, wrong, but doesn’t comment on it. Instead, she decides to tease her stuck-up little sister a bit.

“I thought you wanted to keep your hair brown?” Emira wonders with faked innocence as the newly-painted green-haired witch is marching past them upstairs.

“I, uh, decided to own the look like you guys told me.” Amity looks back really quickly and speeds up her pace, visibly eager to disappear.

Edric catches on to the game and calls out, “And it has nothing to do with the fact that Luz Noceda likes your hair green?”

“No! What?” Amity sputters, the skin on her face showing some of that signature Beetroot colour. “Who? What? Luz? Who’s Luz?” The young witch lets out a laugh that could well make it into the Top-100 Fakest Laughs Ever. “I need to go to my room!”

Emira looks at Edric. “You’re right.”

“About dolphins?”

“No, about the Curse.” Emira’s eyes follow her sister upstairs. “It does seem to run in the family.”


	5. In which Emira briefly ponders on Edric’s search history

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emira is going to ask Viney out because she is ready. (No, she isn’t.)

“So you’re ready.”

“Yes, I’m ready.”

Emira checks her perfectly-applied makeup (no lipstick in case she gets brave and kisses Viney) and decides to unbutton her shirt just a bit more, in case Viney gets adventurous. The mirror claims it’s sexy. Emira knows her eyes are deceiving her, because Viney is the sexy one of the two of them. And the sexiest of all the people. Ever.

“You’re _ready_ -ready?” 

“Yes, I’m _ready_ -ready.”

 _That won’t do._ The green-haired woman groans and buttons her shirt, returning it to the previous chaste state. It’s no use anyway because the weather demands a sweater. Looking at her brother, whose yellow stiped oversized toga is an insult to fashion, Emira decides that a plain grey sweater is the way to go.

“You sure you’re ready.”

“Edric, I swear to Titan, if you ask me _one more time_ —”

“Okay, okay! I just wanted to check.”

The brother tugs his toga a bit tighter, and his undergarment — a silk striped bathrobe — only makes it more of a bleak, yet accurate, resemblance of a lunatic’s dreamscape.

“Ed,” Emira assures, abandoning her cosmetics-fortified post by the mirror. “At this point, I am _sure_ Viney is into me, she’s just being a gentlewitch and not pushing it.”

Ed’s voice does not seem provocative, but he sniffs, as if smelling something fishy. Except he probably is because Emira was cooking fish some half an hour ago. It did not go well. “What gives you the security?”

“Well, I mustered enough courage to send her a heart and text her ‘you’re so attractive and gorgeous and beautiful’, and before I could freak out and add something stupid like ‘beautiful in your shirt’, she wrote ‘you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met’.”

Edric blinks, his jaw nearly opening in sheer awe. “How are you two not dating yet?!”

“That’s what I’m gonna fix today.” Emira is determined because she is confident, she is steadfast, she is unwavering.

“So you’re sure.”

“Yes, yes, by Titan, Edric, I am sure.”

_______________

Emira is _not_ sure.

She has never been this unsure, because Viney is _right there_ , and Viney is _gorgeous_ , and Emira wants to ask her out more than she wants to breathe.

Actually, she doesn’t want to breathe, because apparently her breath is so firmly stuck in her throat that it’s gonna oxygenate her for aeons. Although, maybe not too long, because her blood does not need to travel through her body, seeing how it’s comfortably stuck in her face. 

On the contrary, Viney’s face is a painting worthy of being an art gallery all in itself. Those round cheeks, those lipstick-free lips that are all pink by themselves, that neat, slightly frowned forehead, that—

_Wait, why is her forehead all frowny?_

“Um, Em? You have been staring at me for three minutes.”

“Sorry!” Emira blurts out, covering her eyes with a hand. “You’re just so precious and beautiful and I’m so sorry!”

Why can’t she just tell Viney the simple, simple truth? ‘Viney I’ve had a crush on you since forever, please let’s just kiss already!’ Because that’s what Emira desires more than anything in this world. That, and another sofa for the living room. And for the economy to go uphill at least a bit. But mostly to kiss Viney and date her.

Viney advances on her a little, and pauses, as if unsure. _Kiss me kiss me kiss me—_ The brunette stops and offers a small friendly smile. “Thank you, Em, you’re also fantastic and I just wish…” 

Viney’s voice trails off and Emira is too dumb to understand because while it trails off, Viney’s lips are still slightly parted, and that’s the bottomless pit that Emira wants to live in forever. 

_I’m a Blight. I’m part of the coolest trinity in the Isles. I am the richest witch ever. I’m smart, I’m witty, I’m confident. I can do it. I just need to give her a compliment, she’ll respond with another compliment, and then… Well, then I just say ‘I like you’, and she’ll say ‘I like you back’ and then we’ll kiss and live happily ever after._

It’s very simple. Very. Simple. _As simple as a complex interest rate._ Just compliment her sweater. Say, _I think this sweater looks good on you._ It’s that simple.

“I think I’m sweaty and gay for you.”

Okay, apparently not that simple. 

Viney does something Emira does not expect at all: she sighs and shakes her head. 

_Oh no, oh no, oh no, I screwed up royally!_

_A tiny prison cell surfaces in her brain, with three tiny Emiras sitting on the cots in orange jumpsuits. Another tiny Emira enters the cell, handcuffed, a look of despair on her unwashed face._

_“What’cha doin’ time for?” the Emira in the corner asks, holding a piece of stale bread in her hand. “I murdered seven people in cold blood, so don’t mess with me, I’m a bad witch.”_

_The tiny Emira on the side corner chuckles, filing her nails with a file. (How would she get it in a prison is another question that Emira wants to add to the existing one of ‘what the hell is wrong with my brain’.) “That’s nothing, I stole candy from a baby and replaced it with rotten apple blood.”_

_The third tiny Emira huffs from her place by the door. “I didn’t turn off my scroll in the theatre and kept watching videos.”_

_“So?” the candy-stealer shrugs._

_“With sound.”_

_The two tiny prisoners back down into their respective cots, fear etched in their faces._

_The newcomer merely looks around with a blank, withdrawn expression. “I had one chance to confess to my crush. Who also had a crush on me. And I ruined it.”_

_The three tiny Emiras scream in terror and crawl into the corner of the cell. “LET US OUT! She’s insane!”_

Viney sighs again, stepping aside carefully, so as not to hit anything in the cramped shed that’s usually reserved for either the three best friends or her private meetings with her ‘friend’ Emira.

“Em, do you realise how difficult it is for me not to kiss you right now?”

_Whaaaaaaaa—_

“Look, Em,” Viney sighs with the faintest sign of a blush, “I, um, I know we have this weird tension between us, but I need to tell you that I really, _really_ like you. Romantically.”

Emira doesn’t need to breathe anymore.

“I want to hope that you feel something towards me too, that you like me—”

“I do!” Emira blurts out, and it’s the first coherent thing she’s managed to emit. She is incredibly proud of herself. 

_A bunch of tiny Emiras start dancing around in her brain._

_“We did it!” one of the Emiras cheers, throwing a bunch of flowers into the air._

_“Yay!” the others respond cheerfully, celebrating victory._

_“Now all we have to do is repeat these exact words on our wedding day!” another tiny Emira shouts._

_The music stops. For a moment, everything is silent, and then the tiny Emiras start screaming and running around in panic, bumping into each other and dropping their bouquets._

Emira sighs at her subconscious. _Still better than Ed’s search history._

“Okay, this is good to know.” Viney smiles very lovingly, and takes Emira’s hand in hers, causing the green-haired witch’s heart so stop for a second. “I don’t want to rush things, okay? I know you get very flustered at times—”

 _That’s an understatement,_ Emira thinks, but doesn’t dare utter a word, lest she stumble over herself again. Perhaps not only metaphorically, but literally this time.

“—So I want us to take it at a pace that’s comfortable to you, okay?”

“Okay,” Emira nods, a bit calmer. 

It hasn’t been a very ordinary mutual confession, but then again, Viney is an extraordinary person. And she really likes Viney, so she wants to take it at a pace that would allow her to kiss those inviting lips very soon. But, for that, first, she would have to ask Viney out. And, to do that, she needs to be able to talk to Viney. Surely the curse must have died down a bit after the two girls told each other their feelings?

“I’ve had a huge crush on you for a while, and I’ve suspected you might like me back. I really like our teases and compliments,” Emira says, and the words, finally, flow naturally. “Every time we chat and I feel like I can talk and not just blush, I want to tell you how beautiful you are, how much I like you, how I appreciate you and how much I want to be your girlfriend.”

_Yes! I managed! The Curse is gone! It worked it worked it—_

“Aww, I’ve had a crush on you since I first laid eyes on you, so of course I want to be your girlfriend too!” Viney leans in and kisses the Blight on the cheek. “Let’s be girlfriends, my sweet passion flower.”

 _It didn’t work._ It didn’t work, because the Curse is still there, and because Emira is red and Emira is dead.

“I’m sorry, was that kiss too much?” Viney wonders, obviously alert to Emira’s embarrassment, and no, Emira can only say that it’s not enough, that she’s been longing for Viney for _months_ , and it’s torture because she _knows_ Viney likes her, she _adores_ Viney, and she can’t just be cool and lean in and kiss her girlfriend because she is cursed.

“Kiss,” Emira says dumbly like the dumb stupid impossible witch she is. “Please more. Kiss. Please.”

“Mmm, is this okay?” Viney advances boldly and presses her lips against Emira’s cheek again.

This is what happiness feels like, Emira thinks, because Viney is soft and hot and Emira — suddenly — wraps her arms around her waist.

“Oooh, getting bolder, I see.” Encouraged, Viney shifts her lips a bit, touching the spot where the green-haired witch’s chin connects to her neck. “Is this okay?” 

“Yes!” Emira half-shrieks, half-whispers. Which, in itself, is impossible — but not for someone with the Curse of the Flustered Mess. _Oh no, I’ve started calling it that. I’m turning into Edric. No, no way I’m thinking about Ed right now._

So the taller witch shifts her attention to Viney and, in a haze, lifts one of her hands to pick up the brunette’s chin. Viney looks surprised — pleasantly surprised at that, and then, with a very sly grin, shifts forwards and places her lips on Emira’s.

Viney is everything Emira could ever want in life, and she would give up her billions and Ed’s billions for this one kiss. Well, actually, she would give up Ed’s billions for a piece of chewing gum for all she cares, but that’s beside the point.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” Viney is so gentle, so caring, so impossibly perfect that Emira can’t function. It would be impossible even without a Curse.

So Emira just nods weakly. And then she erupts like a volcano of heat and stress and affection.

“Oh _Titan_ I’ve been waiting so long for this — I’ve been in love with you so long — I never thought we could ever date because I’m such a mess because I’m _cursed_ — and I wanted to kiss you so much — and I could _see_ the mutual pining and it’s so stupid because I couldn’t say anything and you were always the gentlewitch taking care of me and not pushing things — when all I wanted was your lips on mine.”

_Oh no I’ve been talking too long._

But Viney only looks more pleased. “So now that you have gotten that out of your system — do you want to go on a date?”

“Yes,” Emira says, or, to be more precise, _thinks_ , because out loud she just lets out a small ‘meep’.

Viney puts her hand on top of Emira’s, and the green-haired witch thinks this is a very good moment to die of embarrassment. “Can I take that ‘meep’ as a ‘yes’?”

“Meep!” Emira nods frantically. “I mean, yes!”

Viney giggles and kisses Emira’s knuckles. “You’re adorable.”

Yes, Emira is adorable. And _so_ cursed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In defence of Ed’s search history, some of the things Edric has searched for include:
> 
> “Waffle dessert or food”
> 
> “Is dessert also food”
> 
> “Is waffle food if eaten raw”
> 
> “Drinking too many capri suns side effects”
> 
> “Capri sun overdose symptoms”
> 
> “Pterodactyl dinosaur or bird”
> 
> “How to apply mascara”
> 
> “How to ask out potential boyfriend when cursed”
> 
> “Cute videos of kittens”
> 
> “Cute videos of puppies”
> 
> “Cat meets owner at home videos”
> 
> “Crying while wearing mascara is it dangerous”
> 
> “Waffles with capri sun syrup recipe”
> 
> “Friend too cute how to ask out very gay”
> 
> And this is Edric’s search history for the most recent hour. Just to clarify.


	6. In which we learn that soundproof walls are good walls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edric asks Jerbo out on a date. Not a date. A non-date. Whatever!

Emira is happy, truly, undisputedly happy. 

It’s been a while since happiness has entered her heart, but it’s not entirely unfamiliar terrain. She has been happy before, happy because of her own achievements, happy for Amity finally becoming the top student at Hexside — with the pressure from their parents gone, Mittens really shined brighter, happy when Edric finally calmed down enough to have a steady sleeping schedule — his nerves have finally settled enough to stop the nightmares of their past life.

And yet, all of that happiness felt residue, ethereal. It was pride, relief, sisterly condescendence — but this time, happiness feels real. Tangible, even.

And Emira wants nothing more than to share this with the world. The world being her little sister and older brother, naturally.

Unfortunately, Amity’s charts prove more important than Emira’s gushing, so, ushered away, the elder sister knocks on Edric’s door instead.

“Go bleep yourself, Emira!”

Being a good, understanding sister, Emira opens the door anyway. “Did you actually say ‘bleep’?” _Sounds like Edric to censor himself out loud._

Edric’s near-lifeless form on the bed is not enough to dissuade the happiness within, so Emira clicks the light on, eliciting a groan of pain and sorrow from her brother. “Rise and shine, it’s way past napping time!”

“I’m feeling unwell,” Edric spits and rolls over to face the wall. The wallpaper with purple dinosaurs does not exactly play into the whole sombre mood, but Emira feels legitimately worried.

Carefully, like the gentle, loving sister she is ( _and screw everyone who claims otherwise_ ), she approaches the bed, drawing the little brown chair from the desk to sit next to her moping brother without infringing on his personal space. 

“Mentally unwell or physically unwell?” Emira tries to keep her tone sympathetic but not overly worried. After all, she does not want to contribute to Ed’s anxiety.

“Neither, go bleep yourself.” Edric raises his head barely, just to say those words, and hides his face in the pillow again.

“It’s funny how you censor yourself,” Em admits, “but if you have a problem, you can tell me. And you can swear all you want, I’m your sister, for Titan’s sake.”

“Jerbo doesn’t like swearing so I try to cut it down,” Edric mumbles, then adds, “I’m in a bad mood. Sorry, Em. I didn’t mean to snap at you but please go away before I tell you to bleep your bloop or something.” 

Edric’s mood swings are oh too familiar to his sister. Much less to Amity, but Emira has lived side-by-side with Ed for sixteen years, and she knows his fuel is not limitless.

Emira knows that to be brave and strong and kind and fun, Edric needs to shove away all the problems and insecurities. Having been the one pressured the most out of the three of them, the oldest heir, he went through more than Emira did, and through more than Amity can possibly imagine.

And sometimes Edric just dies down inside, and he ends up like this: sad and bitter and mopey. But, while for other people the obvious course of action would be to leave Edric alone, Emira knows more than anyone that Edric _cannot_ be alone when he’s like this. Because later he’s either gonna be crushed by guilt from his behaviour or he’s gonna brush it off like nothing happened and repress himself even more.

So, first, Emira tries to push the conversation aside, considering that talking about it is not an option today. When Edric does not want to share his feelings, he does not share his feelings.

“Have you seen Mittens?” Emira changes the subject, her eyes fixed on Edric’s human-imported laptop, which is precariously close to the edge of the desk. _Honestly, with all the interdimensional trade, why would he choose the one computer with the half-bitten apple on it?_ “When I entered, she pretty much just screamed ‘IMPORTANT CHARTS, GO AWAY’ and pushed me out.”

“She’s probably in her room, lost in some imaginary world, practising escapism from the cruel reality in which Luz is too dense to notice her crush.”

“Wow, you really are pissy today, aren’t you?” Emira says, and regrets it immediately, because Edric raises his head, and his eyes are unusually angry.

“Just because you managed to overcome your Curse enough to start dating Viney,” Edric spits, “it doesn’t mean I can do the same!”

Emira does want to retort, her natural instinct to get defensive. She also wants to smack her brother on the head and tell him to get his shit together. Instead, she decides to be condescending without validating Edric’s behaviour, but also without pushing back too hard.

“So now you firmly believe in the Curse?” This seems to be the best course of action. 

Emira’s scroll beeps again — wait, no, that’s not her scroll. That’s her _phone_. The witch silences her internal groans. Ever since inter-dimensional travel began a while back, she has been trying to establish the Blights (that is, her and Edric) and the main merchants facilitating transactions between the two realms.

In reality, it means she not only has to get all the necessary human technology and spend her free time getting accustomed to various human customs and cultures (which takes more time than studying Economics) — but also having non-stop spam messages and calls from the human realm. Sometimes, she feels like the Boiling Isles _might_ be less picturesque than some parts of the Human Realm she’s been to — but at least here the monsters merely devour your body instead of devouring your soul with countless ‘We have an offer that you might enjoy’. 

“Of course I believe in the Curse!” Edric’s huffs are so loud that they can blow out candles. “It’s hard not to believe in it when you turn into a flustered mess every time you’re around the boy you’re in love with!”

Emira smiles. _So that’s the issue now._ “You’re always so poetic, Ed, using words like ‘in love’ instead of ‘a crush’.”

Edric sits in bed — it’s actually freaky how fast he does it — and looks at his sister with all the suffering of the world in his eyes. “Because we’re _soulmates,_ Em! We’re meant for each other!”

“Titan, it’s so simple!” Emira really wants to be validating, but Edric is being way too dramatic. “If you are meant for each other, get off your butt and ask him out!”

“I _can’t_ , because he doesn’t like me!” Edric blurts out, his freshly-painted green nails digging into his palms, his hands white with how tight his fists are.

Emira can’t picture Jerbo saying something like that to her brother — or anyone. But then again, she mostly just wonders how in the world someone as perfect as Viney could fall for her, Emira Blight, the cursed witch. And how it probably means that Viney will, eventually, irrefutably, leave Emira for someone more worthy. And that would be pretty much anyone.

_Wow, thanks, anxiety. I really missed you! Where were you when I was confidently buying into those junk bonds from the human realm?_

“I’m sorry, bro…” Emira tries to keep her voice soft. “Did he tell you that?” 

“What?” Edric looks at his sister as if she has just claimed the Boiling Isles are round and the Human Realm is flat. “No, of course not. To get a rejection, I’d have to ask first.”

“You didn’t ask?” Emira can’t believe her ears. “And you immediately assume he doesn’t like you?”

“But it’s so _obvious_!” Edric jumps up like a rocketship (resembling one of the numerous rocketships on the shelves around him), his feet planting firmly onto the carpet. “Jerbo is cute, and I’m not. He is smart, and I’m a doofus. He has all sorts of cool hobbies, and I devote my time to juggling five human phones at once.”

“How is that juggling going on, by the way?” Emira asks, hoping to neither confirm Edric’s fears nor downplay them. 

“Eh, human phones are far away from durable.” Edric looks towards the trash can in the corner of the bedroom. “One way or another, Jerbo can’t like someone like me because he is a living deity and I’m just Edric the Cursed Witch.”

“Why don’t you just ask him out on a date?” Emira prods lightly. “It did help me with the Curse just a smidge; and it doesn’t have to be grand or a confession or anything. Just ask him out. Just to check if he’s into you. The date will show that.”

Edric wants to protest but, instead, starts tapping his index finger against his lips. “Just to check?”

“Just to check.” Emira nods. “No time like now!” she announces with bravado, trying to push Edric out of his own room.

“Why do you want me to go so urgently?” There is suspicion now in Edric’s voice, and Emira knows she can’t really hide much from her twin, who definitely knows all her cues — because he has the same exact cues.

So she decides to spill it. “Because Viney is coming by for our first official date.”

It seems that Edric is once again considering wallowing in pity because he becomes slightly less pushable. “The walls are soundproof. You won’t hear my painful laments, and I won’t hear your disgusting sex.”

Emira freezes, and Edric almost falls over as his sister’s pushing ceases. “We’re not—! Why would you think—!” _I don’t even think about Viney that way!_

Okay, that is a blatant lie. Of course Emira thinks of Viney that way. A lot. But how can she _not_ think about her sexy girlfriend, whose gorgeous body is just as beautiful as her soul? Emira is not asexual, she can’t just deny those feelings. But Emira is smart, and she respects Viney beyond any reasonable (or unreasonable) doubt, and Emira will never rush something so intimate with the love of her life.

_Because I tried rushing it with my first girlfriend, and it didn’t turn out well for either of us._

Thankfully, Edric is tactful (or mournful) enough not to mention it. “Why else are you inviting your girlfriend to your place on your first date?”

Emira smiles, thinking of her girlfriend’s real reasoning. “Because Viney is a gentlewitch and thought that being in a safe, familiar space can help me overcome the Curse!”

“I thought the Curse would be gone after you asked her out?” Edric is suspicious, and he shouldn’t be. Because if Edric is suspicious, he will remain in his room, and probably hang out in the kitchen a lot, and ruin Emira and Viney’s privacy.

“Yeah, well, about that…” Emira sighs, rubbing her nose. “It did fade, _slightly_. But it still appears when she compliments me or kisses me or—”

“Yes, romantic mushy stuff, very exciting.”

“Well, don’t come gushing to me when Jerbo finally kisses your stupid face.“ Emira is actually pretty glad Edric dropped the subject himself.

“My… face?” Edric’s fingers run across his cheeks, as if to check that the face is still in place. “Why would he want to kiss my face, my face is hideous.”

Emira sighs. It’s always a tough one. One the one hand, Edric’s insecurities are a real issue that he needs to work out with a professional. ( _Like Viney who is an amazing doctor and kind and caring and altogether divine._ ) On the other hand, sometimes Ed can really downplay himself without realising it. On the third hand ( _for narration’s sake_ ), Ed is her brother so she has to execute her duty of mocking him at every possible opportunity.

“Your face is fine, relax.” Now that Emira has said this, it seems she’s not exactly being supportive. _Sheesh, takes so much to appease Edric._ “Besides, you’re using every beauty product in existence, so even if you were made out of sandpaper, you’d still shine.”

“You think so?” Edric’s eyes are full of hope, and Emira feels guilty. _Sometimes I forget just how neglected and starved for compliments he is. Well, I hope Jerbo can shower him with praise. Like in those Azura/Hecate fanfictions Amity showed me. Which were surprisingly smutty._

_...Ew._

“You’re right!” In a moment, the eldest Blight in on his feet, all turmoil forgotten. “My face is perfect! I mean, you’re wrong about everything else—” Emira glares. “—but I know what to do! Jerbo and I talked so long without the Curse, so I’ll just pretend I’m not interested in him.”

 _It’s not gonna work because you are obviously into him_ , Emira wants to say, but then again, she is ‘wrong about everything’ so why bother? And, apart from spite, her girlfriend ( _girlfriend! girlfriend! girlfriend! a million tiny Emiras chant in her brain_ ) is coming by in a bit, so it’s better with Edric gone. 

Because Amity is unlikely to leave her room until she’s hungry. And, considering that Amity’s training again, she’s gonna eat tomorrow at the earliest. So she and Viney will be… alone. 

Thankfully, Edric does not notice the flush in her face. He has already wrapped a white T-shirt around his shoulders like a shawl, looking in the mirror. “I’ll just tell him, ‘Hey Jerbo, wanna go on a date?’ and he’ll be like ‘Sure, why not’ and it’s not gonna be a big deal.”

Edric grins hopefully, looking across his shoulder. “Right, Em?”

 _No._ Emira gives him a thumbs-up. “Of course, Ed.”

_______________

_Wrong._

Edric was so, _so_ wrong. Out of all the big deals in his life, this is, by far, the biggest. How in the world did he manage to talk to Jerbo normally before? _Right, when I was sure he can’t fall in love with me while I’m so obviously in love with him._

 _Okay, I can do this. Just get in the moment. Whatever that means._ As always, Edric tries to pump himself up with fake bravado. “Jerbo! Jerbo Jerbo Jerbo!”

“Yes?” the beautiful boy looks up from his books, used to this particular form of addressing. But then something — a speck of dust, most likely — gets on his eyelash, so he bats them. 

Right at Edric. And Edric thinks that no bravado can prepare him for something like this: raw, shining beauty, Jerbo’s nose, Jerbo’s eyes, Jerbo’s lips, his _eyelashes_. Titan, Edric is using mascara when he’s at home, and even so his eyelashes aren’t as pronounced as Jerbo’s.

_I can still do it. ‘Jerbo, would you like to go on a date?’ No, better prepare word by word. I already said ‘Jerbo’, that’s good, that’s a start. Now, ‘go’ and ‘date’. ‘Go.’ ‘Date.’ ‘Go on a date.’_

“Go.” _And now ‘date’!_

But the Curse has already taken hold, so Edric’s mouth is frozen, like he’s just consumed a handful of ice-creams (familiar territory) — but the heat from seeing Jerbo so close is mitigating the effects. Somewhat. 

Of course Jerbo would sit next to him in the library, instead of sitting across. Of course sometimes his excited knee would brush against Edric’s. And, while Edric does not find scientific books particularly exciting, Jerbo’s knee is the most exciting thing ever. 

“You want me to go?”

Jerbo is looking at him, _right_ at him, so Edric will have to make his sandpaper tongue work again, right now. “No! I wanna go with you.”

“O-kaaay…” Obviously, this was _not_ self-explanatory, so Jerbo sets his book aside. “Um… Do you want to go somewhere with me?”

“Yes.” Edric nods enthusiastically. “Somewhere.”

Jerbo giggles, as if Edric is playing a prank on him. (Edric would rather _die_ than prank Jerbo — and that doesn’t seem too far off, now that he’s seen this giggle.) “We are somewhere. Do you wanna go somewhere else?”

“Yes.” Honestly, Edric is already melting at how understanding his friend is. “Can we go? Somewhere. Together. Alone. At the weekend.”

Okay, that was officially the most Edric has been able to muster since he’s been Cursed. Or, rather, since the Curse has taken hold. _Nailing it like a pro._

“Oh.” The tops of Jerbo’s cheeks turn a faint shade of pink. “Like… a date?”

“NO!” Edric spits out, then puts a hand over his mouth. He _is_ in a library, after all.

“Oh…” Jerbo seems extremely disappointed for some reason. Perhaps because Edric is an idiot for suggesting a date in the first place. “Sorry I assumed.”

And then, finally, the queued-in word breaks through uninvited. The first was ‘Jerbo’. The second was ‘go’. And the third— 

“Date!” Edric shouts just as loudly, drawing glares from the witches (and the humans) around him.

Now the look of confusion on Jerbo’s face is severe. “So… it _is_ a date?”

“No!” Edric whispers in horror.

_Honestly, why am I like this? He made it perfectly clear he’s uncomfortable with us going on a date, he doesn’t even like me, WHY do I keep pushing? Stupid Em, it’s all her fault._

Jerbo, being the kind beautiful being that he is, drops the uncomfortable word. “So you want to go somewhere… where?”

“Somewhere romantic,” Edric supplies, his mind working faster than his lips. _That’s the key. Just speak fast and don’t think. Because it’s not a date, it’s never gonna be a date._

“Somewhere romantic?”

“Yes,” Edric confirms with a smile, envisioning a perfect date. _Which we will never have._ “Somewhere where we can be alone, talk, hug, and hold hands.” 

“So…” Jerbo taps his fingers against the table. “A private romantic… non-date, correct?”

“Yes!” Edric corrects happily, throwing his book aside (literally) without looking. “A very romantic non-date.”

Jerbo scrutinises the green-haired witch for a good ten seconds, then nods with a friendly smile. “Okay.”

Edric exhales in relief. _Nailed it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for waiting for this chapter and reading it! Special thanks to everyone who's left a kudos, and extra special thanks to everyone who has found the time to leave a comment! Thank you~


	7. In which Jerbo breaks some pencils

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jerbo ponders on his unrequited love for Edric, Edric laments about his unrequited love for Jerbo, and Viney and Emira make out.

The date was a disaster. Then again, how could it have gone otherwise? The worst date in the history of dates.

Well, if it had been a date, of course. Which it wasn’t. Because it was as far away from romantic as possible. And, of course, Edric is the one to blame because Edric was the one who made damn sure that any possible romantic notions inside Jerbo withered and died off. So now Edric has to prepare for a life of eternal bachelorship, because Edric ruined everything.

And he does blame himself, because he had this one chance to woo Jerbo, to show him he’s still the same Edric, only now openly attracted to Jerbo in the most heated fashion. 

_Okay, that even sounds weird in my head when I say it!_

And Edric could do it, he thinks now, locked in his room and bawling into the pillow. He could definitely do it, he has the capacity. He has pulled so many pranks that he’s kind of a champion of buffoonery and pretense. Any time Edric feels bad, he can just brush it off and stand tall, a grin on his face. And of course such a bright, cheerful Edric is exactly the person Jerbo could fall for. Except, well...

Except...

Every time Edric tried to do anything remotely romantic, the Titan-damn Curse would surface, locking up his brain in a sea of flustered turmoil. His brash optimism was replaced with hyperventilating, his go-to attitude vanished in a puff of pink, and his usual verbal barrage could not find a target, because the target was too cute, too precious, too above whatever Edric’s standing was.

First, Jerbo took him for a walk in the park. And took him by the hand. He took him by the hand, Titan damn it!! And Edric, being the idiot he is, laughed it off with ‘wow hands are weird aren’t they’, and Jerbo let go. _He let go because of ME._

Then Edric calmed down a bit, and started telling Jerbo all about penguins and dolphins and dinosaurs and other fascinating creatures, and — for a while at least — it seemed that the date was going so well. Ed was feeling confident once again, like all that time before Jerbo and he came out to each other. But then there was a cold breeze, and Edric tried to nuzzle into Jerbo’s overcoat, but Jerbo gave it to him instead.

 _That_ is how fiercely disinterested Jerbo is. Instead of a romantic cuddle-up, the brilliant scientist chose to distance himself from his friend, shivering on his own. And Edric deserved it, because he was the one who’d refused Jerbo’s hand in his. They could have shared the coat and it would have been perfect, but no, Jerbo saw just how plainly unromantic Edric was and gave him his coat — the gentlewitch thing to do, but still so, so distant from what Edric had in mind.

Then the non-date went downhill: 

Jerbo got chilly, so Edric — in one last pathetic attempt to be a gentlewitch — offered the coat back, Jerbo refused, Edric insisted, and then they just parted ways awkwardly, blaming it on the cold.

More like the cold, cold depths of hell that Edric will go to for being such a dweeb. And hell has, indeed, frozen over, because Jerbo was kind enough to give Edric this one chance.

Well, at least something good came out of it: Edric is no longer Cursed. Because now Edric is adamant Jerbo does _not_ like him back. And, as much as Edric longs for the gorgeous scientist, he will have to step down and try to just be a good friend for him.

Because Edric had one chance, and he blew it.

_______________

Jerbo is furious with himself.

Usually the boy is soft-spoken and quiet, but right now he is breaking every single pencil in his room because he is a Titan-damn fool. (And because broken pencils make good supports for sprouts, but that’s another point.)

He had one chance! Jerbo punches the pillow, his eyes stinging with tears. One chance to show Edric how interested he was! And he completely blew it, he demolished any possibility of nurturing a romantic relationship with Edric.

And he deserves it, he deserves it because Edric is funny, and Edric is beautiful, and Edric knows how to talk to people. Edric doesn’t have to work out to be slim, and Edric doesn’t have to rehearse before he goes for the groceries. Edric doesn’t have a collection of comic books at home, and Edric can wear any clothing, and it’ll look good on him.

And Jerbo should be more than grateful to be Edric’s friend. _Just his friend._

Then why does his throat well up at the idea of Edric never reciprocating his feelings? Why is there a sinking feeling in his gut when he realises that Edric was never interested in him this way — even though Jerbo nurtured the possibility till yesterday’s date? Why does Jerbo’s chest burn at the image of Edric frowning, looking away, stepping aside?

Jerbo should have known from the start that Edric wasn’t interested in a romantic date. Now it is obvious: Edric saw that Jerbo was interested in him and, being the wonderful cinnamon roll that he is, asked Jerbo out on a date. Yet, Edric was _so not interested_ in Jerbo that he masked the ‘date’ as a ‘non-date’. And, all throughout the evening, Jerbo kept realising that Edric just wanted to be friends, and any romantic notions were making the sweet boy uncomfortable.

Jerbo knows Edric loves the park, so he took him for a walk in the Bonesborough park so that the illusionist could marvel at the flora and chase little critters and do everything he enjoys. 

And Ed, poor, sweet Ed really wanted to enjoy himself, Jerbo could see it — but it was also so obvious Edric was uncomfortable with the idea of a date. Being the scientist that he is, Jerbo decided to test his hypothesis and grabbed Edric by the hand — and Edric, being the polite rejector that he was, brushed it off with a silly remark.

Since that moment, it was obvious to Jerbo that Edric was only interested in friendship, and was merely trying to be romantic for his, Jerbo’s, sake. And Jerbo would have none of it. He does not want Edric to be a pretender, trying too hard to appeal to his friend.

No, if Edric is not attracted to Jerbo, then Jerbo would have to stop being attracted to Edric. Thus, when the Blight boy pretended to nuzzle up to Jerbo — _Again, merely for my sake_ — Jerbo just gave him the overcoat to show that he cares, but also to remind Edric that he doesn’t have to pretend to be interested in him.

Because when Edric wasn’t doing anything romantic, he was calm, confident, and comfortable, like all the time before Jerbo and Edric came out to each other. But when Edric felt pressured to appeal to Jerbo because of Jerbo’s stupid obvious crush on him, Ed always got too red, too flustered, too uncomfortable. 

So they soon parted ways, and Jerbo is thankful for that, oh yes he is, even though he is tearing the pillow apart with his teeth, because Jerbo knows that he is never going to live up to Ed’s standards. No, he just has to… He has to… _What if—_

No, Jerbo is better than that. He will accept that Edric is not interested in him, and try to be the best friend he can be. He will not push anymore, and he will not let Edric’s guilt turn this into a fake romance. Jerbo knows Edric’s issues, because Edric confides in him, and Jerbo will never take advantage of the beautiful, kind, lovely boy. 

No, Jerbo will go back to being Edric’s friend and forget any notions of trying to romance the eldest (and the best) Blight.

_______________

“Mmmm, what’s wrong, love?”

Viney looks at Emira through half-lidded eyes as the green-haired girl breaks their kiss and looks aside, as if in worry. Even concerned, Emira’s face has the most astounding features. Her frowny forehead, her golden eyes, the outline of her cheekbones. Emira is so perfect, and Viney can’t help falling in love.

In all honesty, Viney never expected this. Yes, there has been mutual attraction, affection, maybe. But it has been so the whole time she and Emira have known each other. Every time they met in person, something jolted them awake, there was a certain sort of light magic rushing through their bones. 

Viney has always been a bit on-the-surface. Yeah, she’s been enamoured with Emira, and talking to her has always been fun, but this… This is more. This is exciting, and maybe a little scary. This isn’t just a fling, because Viney feels like Emira is the only person she ever wants to be with.

Apparently, that’s what love feels like.

“It’s okay,” Emira mumbles, almost falling from the tree branch in their secret make-out spot. “I just had a feeling that my brother is being an idiot somewhere right now.”

“Wow,” Emira remarks with respect, holding on to the green-haired witch’s elbow. “The famous twin magic?”

“Nah.” Emira grins, smooching Viney on the cheek. “Edric is always being an idiot, probably nothing special.”

“I love you,” Viney says suddenly, but no less earnestly, looking into Emira’s eyes directly, as if her gaze can tell ever more than words, carry all the shades of the underlying meaning she’s putting into them.

“Aww, love, I—” Emira starts cooing, then freezes, the gears in her head evidently rolling at half-speed. “You… You mean, like…”

“I love you,” Viney repeats, taking Emira’s hands into hers. “I’ve never loved anyone before and I know we’re barely seventeen, but… I do love you. I want to be with you. It’s okay, you don’t have to say it back.”

Emira is turning a fine shade of red, and Viney is torn between believing the Blight’s stories of a ‘curse’ and ushering her girlfriend into a full check-up because that much blood to the face can’t be good.

“I—”

With a creak, the branch wiggles under Emira and, despite Viney’s best attempts to catch the girl, the green-haired witch pummels down into the bushes.

“Oh my Titan, Em, are you okay?” Viney cries, immediately jumping off the branch. _Okay, if she has a broken bone, I can use a simple binding spell to neutralise the movement, but the pain—_

“I love you too!” the bush says. Then, there is some ruffling, and Emira erupts from the bush, slightly less flustered, the fall having set her brain right (hopefully). 

“I love you too,” Emira repeats, looking at Viney as if she is the most precious thing in the world. Which is funny, because it’s Emira who is the most precious thing in the world.

“Can you move your arms?” Viney’s medical instincts prevail, taking precedence over the skin-flaming, heart-on-fire-setting idea of Emira loving her back. “Can you stand fine? Try moving—”

In Advanced Medicine, they teach you how to deal with all kinds of patients. Witches in severe pain might cast spells involuntarily or just kick around and hurt the doctor or the first respondent. Viney has been taught spells and restraining techniques, and the young medic always carries some potions for such occasions.

But no one in the Healing track has taught her how to respond to the patient breaking the check-up by lifting the doctor’s chin and kissing her lips gently, yet passionately.

So, Viney just mumbles the rest of the obligatory questions into Emira’s mouth and just melts into the Blight’s embrace. 

_Damn it feels good to be a doctor._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite me liking fast burn (I know, I know), Edric and Jerbo were like "nope, you're gonna write a bajillion more chapters before we realise we're in love with each other and meanwhile we're gonna stay mutually-pining idiots", and I was like "okay", and that's why things are the way they are. Thank you for sticking with the story so far, please let me know what you think in the comments! (If you want to and have the time.)


	8. In which Edric teaches Amity how to make a complex illusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amity does her homework, Emira gets a very private message, and Edric plays some video games.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this bigger-than-usual chapter makes up for almost two weeks of no updates ^_^
> 
> And yay I barely managed to keep up my non-promise of eight updates a month. Truly I am a gentleman and a scholar (no I'm not). Thank you for reading and for your wonderful comments! Hope you enjoy! <3

Amity loves her siblings.

And it’s not only because they’re blood-related. Her parents were also blood-related, but they were such giant douchenozzles that Amity likes to think of them in the past tense because Amity would love to see them dead.

No, Amity is _not_ nice, contrary to whatever anyone might think. She is spiteful, she is vengeful, and she doesn’t let anyone get to her. 

Unless it’s Luz Noceda. If Luz so much as glances at her, Amity turns into the softest pile of mush imaginable. Then again, Luz could literally do anything to her, and Amity would be enraptured with glee.

_Ahem, where was I?_

Ah, yes, Amity loves Emira and Edric.

Ed and Em have been there for her when she was feeling bad; they have been supportive when she needed support; they have been teasing her when sh— Well, no, scratch that, Edric and Emira are the worst.

And yet they are always there for her, and Amity secretly enjoys weekends because she gets to spend them with her real family — her brother and sister.

Well, as of the moment, only her brother, because Emira is Titan-knows-where, while Edric is lying on the carpet, playing games on his human-produced handheld device. 

Now, Amity is occupying the only sofa in the apartment, trying to wrap her head around Advanced Illusions. Mixing magic is extremely complicated. In the past, Amity wanted to join the Emperor’s Coven just to mix magic, but now that everyone’s doing it… 

How do people even manage? Now that everyone learns the basics of other tracks, most witches multi-track, but Amity has always been an Abominations kind of girl. And of course she’s passed with merit every other track as long as it was Basic Beastkeeping or Basic Illusions or Basic Potions. 

But so many people take two majors. And some, like Jerbo, are about to graduate with _three_ majors! And Amity, despite being smart and intelligent and studious, can’t really prepare for the dreaded exam in Advanced Illusions.

“Illusions are too hard!” Amity groans, giving up on her attempt to conjure a moving, tangible illusion. “I can easily make holographic illusions, but it’s impossible to make an illusion that moves and speaks and that you can also touch!”

“No it’s not. It’s pretty easy, actually.” Edric barely lifts his finger, drawing a tiny green circle in the air without interrupting his game.

An illusion of a tiny Amity and a tiny Luz appears in the air. And yes, it is very tangible, because Amity tries to swipe it away with her palm, but the little ethereal figurines just shift to the side.

“Oh, Mittens!” the tiny Luz exclaims in Edric’s high-pitched voice, “I just love you so much, let’s make kissy faces all night long!”

Amity is glad for her Grudgby training because it taught her precision. The exact precision that she needs to launch her pillow into Edric’s head. Which is also very tangible.

“Hiiii guuuuys~” 

Edric almost drops the console while Amity does drop her book, their stares simultaneously drawn to a very cheerful Emira who enters the living room, humming and dancing on her toes. Then the girl reaches down to kiss Amity and Edric on the top of their (baffled) heads.

_What the actual—_

“Ah, my lovely brother and my beautiful sister!” Emira carries on in the same sugary manner. “How I missed you~”

“Em, are you sick?” Edric calls out, eyeing his sister in shock. 

“No, I just love you guys so much~” Emira continues to sing and for the first time since their parents’ trial, Amity feels scared.

In a second, Edric jumps up and cautiously approaches Emira, who is undressing and still humming to herself. “Heeey, Em… uh… sis?” The boy pats his sister’s shoulder carefully. “How about I call Viney and ask her to check up on you?”

“Oh, Viney has checked up on me plenty~” Emira replies, and Amity considers shutting her ears.

Then again, Emira does seem unusually happy, and that is a major concern. Because Emira is _never_ happy. Cheerful, yes. Cheeky, sure. Exhilarated from time to time. But never happy, especially to the extent where she tells her and Ed how much she loves them. And how much she missed them when it’s been maybe four hours since they last saw one another.

“Ah, I get it!” Edric seems relieved, but Amity isn’t. “You did the midnight dish-wash?”

“The what?” Amity says, barely above a whisper, at the same wanting and _not_ wanting to know.

“The sideways spell sorcery?” Edric proceeds, and Emira’s happiness still doesn’t seem to dissipate — which is worrisome by itself. “The brushing of the dragon? The moonlight dirty dance?”

_What._

“No, Edric, we haven’t had sex yet,” Emira replies, booping her brother on the nose.

Well, now Amity has even more reasons to use a mind-erasing spell. On herself. Truly family is a gift that just keeps on giving. Keeps on giving Amity daily nightmares, that is.

“So what’s the big occasion?” Ed prods, a little calmer. “Did your junk bonds suddenly turn into A-plus-grade investments?”

“Did your dividends finally yield enough for us to buy another sofa?” Amity calls out from the lonely sofa. _I swear, if I acquire some sort of sofa-related mental complex…_

“You wish,” Emira sighs, for the first time sounding like herself. “Not in this horrible economy. Investors are running to safe havens and—”

“Did a leprechaun drop his pot of gold somewhere so it’s free for the taking?” Amity interrupts, lest this family bonding moment turn into a lecture on trade and economics.

“No…” Emira pauses. “Wait, is that true? How much gold are we talking about?” 

Upon seeing Amity’s grin, Emira huffs. “Hahaha. Well, laugh it off, because I have a valid reason to be happy. Look!”

Just like that, the elder sister prances to the sofa and shows Amity her scroll. “Here, read this.”

Amity starts reading out loud, “ _From_ : Viney. _Message_ : Hey, cutie, I’m not wearing any—”

“WRONG APP!” Emira shouts, taking the scroll back and tapping at it wildly. 

Amity blinks. “What is she not wearing, and why is it making you happy?”

Meanwhile, Edric snorts with laughter, and Emira shoots him a murderous look. Which probably means she’s not sick after all.

“Makeup, she’s not wearing any makeup,” Emira lies immediately. _Why would Em be so happy about Viney not wearing makeup?_ “Here, this is the app.”

“This is Viney’s Penstagram account,” Amity remarks. “I’ve seen it.”

“Yes,” Emira urges, “but read the handle.”

“Viney Blight.” Amity waits for a second, then it sinks in. “Ooooh, Viney _Blight_ ~”

“Aww!” Edric exclaims, throwing himself onto Emira to wrap his sister in an embrace. “Did you two get married and never told me?”

“We’re seventeen, Ed,” Emira mumbles from the embrace.

“Yeah, so?”

“I’m pretty sure you can’t get married at seventeen.” Emira liberates herself and checks her scroll again, because it makes a message sound, and apparently it’s from Viney, and apparently Viney has taken off more makeup? Because Emira is way redder than a beetroot, closer to a purple sweet potato from the human realm.

“Ah,” Edric nods, “so you can decide the fate of international trade, but you can’t get married or drink alcohol. Makes sense.”

“Edric is cranky because Jerbo doesn’t like him,” Amity remarks with almost no spite in her words.

“Ed, I’m so sorry the date didn’t go well…” Emira closes the scroll, giving it a side glance. 

Then her blush resurfaces and she looks at the scroll just one more time. _Perhaps Viney has sent her a photo where she’s removing her makeup?_

“It’s okay, it was just further proof Jerbo is not interested in me.” Edric lies down on the floor again. “I’ll get used to it.”

Amity wants to remark that Edric _doesn’t_ get used to things, for example he still hasn’t gotten used to the new user interface of Penstagram because ‘the old one was better and this one doesn’t make sense!’ — but bites her tongue, lest she actually offend her soft, sensitive brother.

“I know what’ll cheer you up.” Emira pokes Edric with her toe.

“Vanilla pudding with murderberry sauce?”

Emira binks. “Sure, we can get some if you want to. But I mean, _Blorb’s_ is gonna interview us later today, how awesome is that?”

“Meh,” Edric says to the sound of singing yellow circles on his videogame device. 

“Meh?” Emira repeats, her signature frown establishing itself on her definitely-not-sick face. “You were always stoked for things like that, what’s up?”

“I was stoked because Jerbo could see me and see how cool I am,” Edric explains, shaking his videogame system. “Now I don’t care anymore.”

“Well…” Emira is full-on frowny now, and Amity is finally sure that whatever momentary lapse of judgement her sister had, it’s gone now. “We still have to give that interview so put on something presenta— something that is at least considered clothing.”

“Sorry, Em, my day is pretty full.”

Now it’s obvious Emira is starting to seethe with indignation so Amity briefly considers retreating to her room. Then again, Amity has done nothing to upset her sister so she might as well remain to offer Edric moral support. (And enjoy the show about to unfold.)

“So what’s on your schedule? Playing video games and eating vanilla pudding?” Drops of poison are already seeping into Emira’s intonation.

“Well, first I need to get these locorocos to their little house, and then yes, I’m gonna eat some vanilla pudding—” Edric looks at his sister sternly. “—then I’m gonna read about penguins and cry myself to sleep because Jerbo doesn’t like me. My schedule’s pretty packed.”

“Ed, we _need_ to give an interview to _Blorb’s_.” Emira sighs, rubbing her nose.

“Too busy. I’m reading about penguins.” Edric fishes out his scroll, putting his handleheld aside.

“Ed, I just need you to answer a couple of questions and say a few words. We _are_ billionaires now and we have to maintain some publicity. Just give them a tiny speech that I prepared for you.”

“Can it be about penguins?” Edric doesn’t seem unperturbed, scrolling pictures on his device.

“Wh— No. No it can’t.”

“Then I don’t wanna.” The eldest Blight huffs and waves Emira off.

“Edric, come on, we need to give that interview.” Emira even disregards the wave-off, so the interview must be pretty important, Amity concludes. Then again, Amity doesn’t really have much say in the financial matters of the family — not that she wants to.

“I don’t wanna, go bleep yourself.” Edric waves Emira off again.

That’s one wave-off too much.

“Please stop being childish!” Emira screams, stopping her foot on the carpet. “I try to _do_ something with our family fortune, and you’re just spending it — you don’t even help!”

“I help!” Edric huffs, unprovoked still. “I wash the dishes, and I mop, and I buy groceries, aaaaand that’s not what you meant, huh.”

His smug grin only seems to infuriate Emira more.

“I am planning to _invest_ some of the money we’ve come into,” Emira hisses. “I’m about to launch a firm creating complex illusions to help patients deal with trauma.”

“And I’m about to launch a circus to help people laugh and not _have_ trauma!” Edric isn’t even looking at Emira, and Amity starts feeling uncomfortable. The Twins fight all the time, but fights like this one are rare — the ones where they are _actually_ mad.

“That’s not how it works and you know it!” Emira shouts, her voice breaking into a rasp.

“Maybe a time-out will help?” Amity suggests meekly from the sofa, genuinely worried for Em and her health. And Ed and the health of his bones.

“NO!” Emira is now screaming on top of her lungs, and Amity is extremely glad the apartment is soundproof because ‘The Blight Twins detained for being a public nuisance’ isn’t exactly the most appealing headline.

“I arranged the interview _weeks_ in advance! When a chance like that appears, you don’t just walk away from it.” Emira points her finger at Edric, who is now done with his scroll and is glaring at his sister with cold menace. “You’re gonna have that interview, and you’re gonna be fucking charming and pleasant about it!”

“Yeah?” Edric hisses, and Amity feels genuinely scared. “How sweet of you to decide for me. You’re just like Mom!”

Emira freezes, and a thick, slimy silence falls over the living room. Edric looks like he is already regretting his words, but is not gonna back down. Emira looks stricken, her cheeks moving as she’s gritting her teeth, the girl’s nostrils flaring. 

“You’re dead to me,” she says finally and walks away.

Amity waits until her sister disappears upstairs, then looks at Edric in sheer horror. The fifteen-year-old has never seen her siblings fight this badly. Usually their quarrels were restricted to yelling, but never such pure hate and disdain.

Edric glares at his little sister for mere seconds, then his face starts twitching, and he breaks into tears. Crying soon turns into bawling, and bawling turns into hysteria. Edric is pretty much collapsing into himself, alternating between sobs, bawls and retching.

Amity doesn’t move. 

“I didn’t want to be mean!” Edric bawls, and Amity doesn’t move, even though her heart is aching for both her poor brother — whose mental torture at the hands of their parents was more severe than hers or Emira’s — and also her poor sister, who had to put on the mantle of head of the family earlier than expected.

“I didn’t wanna hurt Em, I just hate it when she’s like that!”

Amity can relate. Sometimes Emira can be outrageous and controlling. But Amity also knows why Emira is like that: she had no control over her life, and now any semblance of lack of control sets the girl on fire, any notion that events might unfold in a manner that might be detrimental to the trio is something that Emira cannot accept. 

Still, Edric knows very well that, when Emira is like that, the only reasonable thing to do is agree with whatever she’s proposing and leave her alone. 

“I’ve never asked for this!” Edric screams on top of his lungs and Amity is once again thankful for the benefits of sound insulation. “I just wanted to be a normal boy, not a fucking multibillionaire who has to do— society stuff!”

Amity lets her brother let it out. Frankly, she has no idea how hard all of this has been for Ed and Em. For her, Mom and Dad were mythical figures who would sometimes erupt from their offices (separate, like their bedrooms) to give instructions. 

Thankfully, Amity was always good at following instructions. Partly because of it, she and Willow are very likely to never restore the friendship they once had. Partly because of it, Amity feels pressured to succeed even when she doesn’t have to. Partly because of it, Amity is so insecure in herself that she lacks the ability to make decisions for herself, relying on Ed, Em, and her friends, to decide for her.

But Edric and Emira had it worse. Coming out was a bad idea, but, unlike her, Edric actually still feels a semblance of love (or, perhaps, attachment) for their parents. Coming out was the worst idea in Edric’s life. And Edric had many bad ideas in his life. Daily mental torture, forced inferiority, guilt, and a vast sea of doublethink (Amity likes human literature) was all that Edric got out of coming out. It wasn’t brave or smart; it was suicidal.

And yet, this is the Edric that Amity knows, and she would never trade him for any other brother. Except, perhaps, a brother who doesn’t use her towels. Thankfully, Amity is an early riser so if Edric wants to use a wet towel, Amity doesn’t care.

“I only liked the publicity because I thought Jerbo would like me back,” Edric sniffs, finally free of all the pent-up energy that has obviously been eating at him since early morning.

“I’m so sorry Jerbo is too dumb to see how amazing you are, Ed,” Amity finally says. “Do you want me to punch him in the face?”

“What? No! What?” Edric is feeling better, it seems, because he can at least focus on external stimuli.

“Sorry, my repertoire of helpful actions is very limited,” Amity admits because, frankly, punching people in the face is the only thing she’s good at. And Abominations. And charts. And being a pathetic useless mess around Luz Noceda.

Edric gets up, and, while there is a weight on his shoulders, it doesn’t seem to push him down as much. 

“I’m going to talk to Emira,” he announces. “I’m gonna ask for forgiveness, and if she doesn’t grant it, I’m gonna beg, and if she doesn’t grant it, I’m gonna stay up all day and night under her door.”

Amity wants to say that Edric’s idea doesn’t help with his chronic sense of guilt, and his self-esteem issues, but, honestly, Amity would do anything too to avert a big family crisis. Unlike Emira, for whom independence is paramount, Amity can sacrifice self-interest for the interests of her siblings. 

And Luz. If Luz tells Amity to go kill a bunch of baby bats, Amity would only ask ‘how many’. Then again, Luz would never ask that, and that’s why Amity is in love with her. 

“Okay,” Amity nods, but Edric is already gone. The girl sighs and picks up her book. “I’ll wait for you.”

_______________

“Emira, I’m so sorry.”

Emira listens to her brother’s trembling voice from behind the door, and tears well up in her eyes. “Go away,” she rasps, and turns back to staring at the wall.

Emira has given herself to this family. She, always the one seeking independence, has tied herself even more to her siblings. She has taken responsibility for them, even though she wants nothing more than to live on her own— Well, with Viney, but still on her own.

But she can’t because Edric and Amity need her. Because if she doesn’t keep the family afloat, Amity will drive Edric up the wall and Edric will spend all their billions and end up living in a ditch somewhere.

And the worst thing? These two are a burden. And they will always be a burden, and there is nothing Emira can do about it. Through the everyday laughter, throughout the teasing and the family bonding and the love — there will always be a shade of guilt peeking out because Emira will always consider her siblings weight pulling her down. 

And there is nothing that’ll change that, because, despite tiny adjustments, Amity and Edric are incapable of true, profound change.

“Emira, I swear, I won’t ever question your authority,” Edric’s voice continues from behind the door. “Please forgive me, sis, I love you so much, I’m so sorry.”

“It's not about authority, Edric,” Emira responds in the same raspy voice, which hopefully doesn’t betray her crying.

“I’m sorry, Em, I’m so sorry,” Edric keeps repeating from behind the door like a broken toy. “You’re not like Mom. You’re nothing like her. You take care of the two of us, I love you so much, I— I’ll be better.”

“How?” Emira might be a bit too cruel, but then again, Edric crossed the line when he compared her to the horrible evil monster that their mother was.

“I will take some responsibility off your shoulders,” comes the reply. “I’m sorry, Em, I will try to make it up to you over and over, I really am so sorry, I screwed up royally.”

Emira sighs. “Come on in.”

Edric walks into the room slowly, his pace sheepish, his eyes puffy from crying. “I’m so sorry, Em,” he begins again. “I might be too childish to run the estate but I’m actually not dumb. I’ll be more responsible.”

“How?” Emira asks, and the coldness in her voice sounds manipulative — even to her. “I mean, how exactly?” she amends without much success. 

“I’ll do things I’m capable of,” Edric says. “I’ll help around the house more. I’ll clean more. I’ll take care of Mittens more. I’m an entertainer, I can entertain her and her friends. I, I… I’ll do what I can so that you stop hating me.”

“I don’t hate you, Edric,” Emira says, getting up and reaching her stupid brother. “I love you, and that’s why your behaviour hurts more than anything.”

“No love I feel — even for Jerbo — can ever compare to the love I feel for you and Mittens.” Edric starts sobbing, and Emira finally wraps him up in a consoling embrace.

Now, Edric is full-on bawling, and Emira keeps patting him on the back as if he’s a baby and not her elder twin. 

Edric will not change.

Emira knows it well, and yet she owes it to him to at least help him out and get Amity a nice life. Perhaps Amity will have the wings Emira has never gained. 

Then again, there _is_ someone that makes this worth living. And this someone has been sending her words of support. After sending Emira very interesting pictures, that is. Which makes Emira wonder if it is even legal for Viney to send her such pictures until they are both eighteen. Then again, the age of consent is sixteen and Emira should probably stop thinking about it because her brother is latching onto her and killing any sexy Viney-related notions in her mind.

Emira sighs and kisses the top of Edric’s head, ruffling up his hair afterwards — something she does very rarely, but now it’s warranted. “I love you too, Ed. You’re my brother, and, as much as we fight, I’m not gonna abandon you and Amity.”

“I know,” Edric sniffs, “that you need your independence, but I really don’t want to be a burden. I will take care of Amity’s graduation and I’ll make sure she gets a good job. You don’t have to worry about those things. Oh, and I’m gonna start washing the entire apartment now so you don’t have to waste your time on that.”

“Okay,” Emira nods, letting on a tiny smile.

Edric responds with an identical smile, because, honestly, he’s just a mirrored version of Emira. “I’m gonna start doing more stuff for you and Mittens, I promise.”

Emira nods again. “Does it mean you’re gonna give the interview?”

“Can I say anything about penguins?”

“...No.”

“Okay, still works.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, Amity’s POV! By the way, if you like Lumity and you have already read how Amity has dealt with the Curse of The Flustered Mess in Luz Noceda’s Middle Name, I would like to offer you a new Lumity fic of mine — a Fencing AU in the human world — that you guys might enjoy if you like Lumity:
> 
> [Riposte to Flick to Feint to Lunge](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29197314/chapters/71687235)
> 
> (There is a looooooot of extensive pining and sweetness and fluff — but also a healthy chunk of comedy because Amity is still a flustered mess around Luz.)
> 
> Now, this story is gonna stay Twin-centered, but I just couldn’t allow Amity to always linger in the background, she’s a Blight too, after all! <3


	9. In which light is shed on some important medical facts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jerbo watches the crystal ball, and Viney watches all the beauty of the world at once.

Jerbo is not a creep.

He might have some photos of Edric saved on his scroll, sure. Okay, he might have a whole folder dedicated to Edric on his scroll. And a backup. And, just in case, some hard-copy photos of Edric to kiss before bed. 

_Titan, I -am- a creep._

Still, that realisation, no matter how true, does not prevent Jerbo from turning on his crystal ball to tune into _Blorb’s_ newest feature: an interview with the Blights.

The show has already begun, and Jerbo blames himself for tardiness: too focused for his preparations for tomorrow (big day!), Jerbo has neglected the true goal of his life: to absorb everything that is Edric. Because Edric is bigger than the world, and Jerbo would give up anything just to be with him. Unfortunately, Edric made it perfectly clear he wasn’t interested in stupid, ugly, lusterless Jerbo.

Thankfully, Emira is still talking on the screen, and Jerbo couldn’t care less about whatever financial stuff she’s talking about, the young scientist’s eyes are drawn to the beauty that is Edric in a suit. An actual suit, oh Titan.

Edric is smiling a very tiny, sad smile, and he’s wearing a tailored suit that perfectly encompasses his perfect body, the wide shoulders, the well-developed lats, the slim but muscular waistline and Jerbo will probably need new pants after this but Edric looks hotter than ever. If that were even possible.

Finally, Edric begins to speak, and Jerbo gulps to silence his internal screaming, lest he miss a word uttered by the most pleasant voice in the world.

_“No, I will not be focusing on day-to-day affairs,” Edric says, tugging at his green (sexy!) tie. “I will continue to look after the house and help my sister with whatever she needs.”_

_“It’s interesting,” the interviewer, a young demon lady, proceeds, “how you’re breaking the stereotype.”_

_Edric blinks (sexily) and takes a gulp of his water (in a sexy way). “Is it because I’m gay?”_

Jerbo is dead.

_The reporter smiles, revealing two sets of sharp, pointed teeth. “I mostly meant that you are the eldest heir—”_

_“We dislike the term ‘heir’,” Emira interjects. “We would like to show the world that the money we have, we have worked for. We participated in—”_

_“Yeah, yeah,” the interviewer waves her off._

_Immediately, Edric stands up from his chair. “Hey, don’t you dare interrupt my sister, she’s smarter than you!”_

_Emira looks at Edric sternly,_ while Jerbo looks at him with awe. Edric is so noble, so defensive of his family, and Edric would be a perfect husband. To someone else, that is, because Jerbo will never ever be with him and it hurts more than anything. Even more than the time he ate some really bad shieldfish wraps. Never trust a fish that looks like a shield.

Meanwhile, the interviewer seems to have shifted her attention to Edric’s love life.

_“So, do you have your eyes on anyone special?”_

_“As a matter of fact, yes,” Edric replies, slightly calmer and sitting down again. “I have fallen for a guy, but he’s not really into me.”_

Jerbo wants to cry because maybe that means there is hope for him and that’s a horrible thought and Jerbo should be happy and wish for Edric to get together with whatever super perfect hot buff intelligent smart funny not-Jerbo person Edric has chosen.

_“Really? You seem like the most desired young bachelor across the Boiling Isles.”_

_“Well,” Edric gives the same sad tiny smile. “My crush is way above my level. He’s very intelligent, and he’s super organised, and his smile can just melt glaciers. And, by Titan, he is so handsome that it hurts to look.”_

Jerbo looks at his half-finished paper, his disorganised working space, and his frown is colder than the coldest glaciers of the Knee. Lifting his shirt, Jerbo looks at his ribs poking out above a completely muscle-less abdomen.

Despair sets into Jerbo’s heart. He can abandon all hope now, because, whoever Ed’s mysterious crush is, he sounds like the opposite of Jerbo. And Jerbo can’t compete with someone of that caliber.

_“Unfortunately,” Edric continues, “he doesn’t seem to look at me the way I look at him.”_

Wow. Jerbo can’t believe it. Whoever this crush is, he is a stupid idiot and Jerbo just wants to punch him in the face for treating Edric that way. If only Ed was interested in Jerbo like that! Jerbo would surely jump to the opportunity to date the most perfect boy in existence.

Dismayed and disappointed, the young scientist turns off the crystal ball and plops on his bed. He cannot see any more of Edric’s sad smile because Edric should never be sad.

But Edric has a crush, and it’s not Jerbo, and Jerbo will get used to it. He will.

 _I’ll calm down,_ Jerbo thinks into his pillow, tears permeating the cloth. _Tomorrow is a big day, I’ll have to prepare. It’s nothing, really._

_Just the boy of my dreams has a crush on someone else._

_______________

“I’m still just a fucking ‘heir’ to them.” Emira shuts off the crystal ball. Then gets up from the bed and opens the window, throwing the ball outside. 

“It’s just a gesture,” the green-haired girl explains to a dumbfounded Viney, “I own the backyard, I’m gonna pick it up tomorrow.”

Viney wants to remark that there isn’t likely to be any remains of the very-fragile device, but instead motions for Emira to get back to bed and purrs in her best seductive voice, “Would you like a massage, love?”

“I want to fuck you like there’s no tomorrow,” Emira replies.

Viney’s trachea forgets its function to assist the diaphragm, which is so clearly _not_ pushing the air in and out properly. “S-sorry, what?”

“I said,” Emira repeats, “fuck it, I’ll think about it tomorrow.”

“Right.” Viney nods. _Titan, Viney, stop being a virgin perv!_ Then, Viney thinks that if she has sex with Emira, she will stop being a virgin perv by default, and suddenly Viney does _not_ want to proceed with this sleepover for the sake of her own sanity.

“You ever think about flying away?” Emira says suddenly, looking out of the window with a strange, forlorn expression.

“Well, I have a griffin, so… yes?” Viney tries to chuckle, but it doesn’t come out right.

“I think that’s a bullshit metaphor,” Emira scowls. “We are witches. We have palismans. We fly anyway. We can fly wherever we want and we still can’t fly away from ourselves.”

Viney keeps silent, because it’s the first time she’s seen Emira like this and she wonders if it’s too early into their relationship to do anything about that. So Viney just listens like the good listener that she is, her thumb rubbing circles into Emira’s palm.

“No, I’d love to dive. I’d love to dive deep, deeper than anyone before, I’d love to dive into the purple ocean and let the water conceal me, crush me under its weight, so that no one gives me their fucking scrunity, their empty condolensces, their useless advice, and their fake compassion. Because they have no fucking idea what it means to be _me_.”

Viney is very glad she kept silent. And yet, as a healer, she cannot help but ask, “Do you need to talk to someone about it? I have a friend, he’s a doctor who specialises in, well, um, brain stuff.”

_Wonderful, Viney, explaining like a pro. Truly you will make a fantastic doctor._

Suddenly, there is a tiny Viney inside of Viney’s brain ( _what the fuck_ ), and the tiny Viney is wearing a doctor’s robe standing before a patient’s bed.

_“Well, uh, you see,” the tiny Viney explains to the patient — who is also a tiny Viney, for some reason. (Seriously, what the fuck.)_

_“Tell me how it is, doc,” the tiny patient Viney sighs._

_“Well, here’s the thing,” the tiny doctor Viney explains. “The thing that’s, uh, connecting your thing to your thing? It got a thing, so now the thingie that’s supposed to connect the two things together, it’s kind of, meh. Like, very meh.”_

_“Thank you, doctor!” the tiny patient Viney exclaims. “Now I understand everything and I can start my recovery right away!”_

“I don’t want any more male opinions,” Emira says, while Viney is trying to figure out what the fuck is wrong with her brain. _Perhaps I should go see a shrink instead._

“Well, he’s, uh, a doctor,” Viney tries. “We’re all, by default of our profession, genderless.”

“Oh, really?” Emira bats her eyelashes, while her hand makes its way under Viney’s shirt. _Oh hello there!_ “Hmmm, you don’t feel genderless to me, you feel _distinctly_ female.”

“T-that’s not what I mean!” Viney exclaims, trying to remember how to exist.

“Hmmm, if you’re such a genderless professional, why don’t you give me a physical?” Emira proceeds with her heated flirting, licking her lips for good measure.

“L-like a physical exam?” Viney exclaims, remembering how to exist but forgetting how to be a doctor. “No! No! No!”

“Oh, that’s a shame…” Emira withdraws her hand from underneath Viney’s shirt. “I was hoping you’d check me for breast cancer?”

“You’re seventeen, it’s too early for those check-ups,” Viney says, and then Emira takes off her T-shirt.

Viney has seen a lot of naked people. She’s still a young healer, but most ailments require the patient to undress to some extent, so Viney can proudly say that she can handle any degree of nakedness with professional detachment. Viney has treated bodybuilders, for Titan’s sake, and didn’t get aroused. 

For some reason, seeing Emira semi-naked is a completely different story.

“You… no bra,” Viney manages with the eloquence of a boiled potato.

“Oh, but why would I be wearing a bra to bed, doctor?” Emira flutters her eyelashes. “Don’t you know that’s bad for your health?”

 _Because I’m sleeping in your bed tonight and unless you put on a sports bra like me I’ll have a heart attack and I’m literally the only person in this apartment who knows how to treat a heart attack,_ Viney says. In her head. Out loud, she says, “Uuuuuuuuuuh.”

“I’m sorry, doctor, what was that?” Emira is way too sultry. And way too sexy. And that teasing is not funny. If this is a punishment for recommending therapy, then Viney will forego her oath to help and heal and become a hermit instead. _Okay, Viney, get your shit together!_

Viney is a witch. A product of aeons of evolution. Viney stands tall over more primitive life forms, possessing coherence, eloquence, and other superior cognitive abilities which Viney cannot remember the names of because Emira’s chest is making her forget everything. 

“Boobs,” Viney says finally, proving to the world that evolution might, indeed, only be a theory. At least when applied to her.

“Indeed.” Emira grins and puts on her shirt. “Sorry for teasing, love, I was just testing a theory.”

“W-what theory?” Viney asks, regaining basic coherence. 

Emira’s grin grows even wider. “The Curse is definitely contagious.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww, Emira, why… I really like the ‘taking flight’ metaphor :(


	10. In which Edric proves that he’s both a genius and an idiot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Blights go to the Owl House.

Emira is a tight sleeper.

“Ooooh, Jerbo, yes~”

In fact, Emira wears earplugs to bed for good measure because Emira cannot afford to have a sleepless night. Nor does Emira want to wake up early.

“Mmmm, Jerbo, work your magic~”

Emira likes to stay in her room in the morning, waking up gradually to the silence and to the quiet, dull hum of outdoor sounds. Emira likes to stretch and take her time getting out of bed.

“Ah, yes, now add the waffles~”

Every day, Emira works hard to be seen as someone bigger than just a Blight, just an heir. Emira has forgone her dream, her freedom, has clipped her wings for the sake of her siblings. Emira has dived deep into the world of finance, all to make sure Edric and Amity never lose their fortune and always have enough money to buy whatever they want. 

“Ah, Jerbo, yes yes yes—”

And  _ that  _ is how Edric is repaying her.

Emira groans and jumps off her bed, taking out the useless earplugs. Then she proceeds to put on some pants and throws the door open, knocking on the door opposite her bedroom. “Edric, wake up!”

The moaning dies down and, for a second, Emira thinks that, perhaps, Jerbo  _ is  _ there with Ed and she might be breaking off a very intimate moment. But, considering that Edric is oblivious beyond belief and his relationship with Jerbo is, so far, confined to his imagination… And even if Ed  _ were  _ doing something like that, it’s not an excuse to wake up everyone in the house. Amity might hear, for Titan’s sake, and she’s an innocent little moonflower.

“I don’t know what’s more troubling,” Emira tells her brother as Edric emerges in dinosaur-themed pyjamas. “That you’re having dreams like that or the fact that it’s  _ just  _ a dream and not actually Jerbo in your room.”

Ed yawns, rubbing his eye with a fist. (Viney would tell him it’s definitely unhealthy.) “Definitely the latter.”

“You’re being way too loud,” Emira remarks but can’t bring herself to criticise her brother any further.

“Sorry, I just…” Edric’s voice trails off and Emira is very grateful that her brother is leaving his dream at that. Emira does  _ not  _ need unnecessary details. “Weren’t you supposed to spend the night with Viney anyway?”

Emira scoffs. “Yeah, that didn’t go well. I got naked and Viney got too flustered and said that if she stays over she will  _ have  _ to, I quote, ‘fuck me till I cannot stand’, and apparently she’s not ready for that.”

“Sorry, Em, I can’t believe Viney refused to sex you.” Edric stretches, reaching the doorway with his palms.  _ We are ridiculously tall, aren’t we. _

“First of all, Edric, it’s ridiculous to use ‘sex’ as a verb.” Emira looks inside the room for signs of a residue Jerbo there. “Second of all, we’re being cautious and no one refused anything. We’ve made a mutual agreement to wait until the time is right.”

“I’m just surprised because you’re so beautiful,” Edric says with a kind smile — which is so unlike Edric.

“This is literally the first time in my life that you’ve called Emira beautiful,” Amity’s voice calls out from behind Emira’s back.

“Well, we  _ are  _ twins, so if I’m beautiful, Emira is beautiful by default.” Edric stretches some more, baring his belly button, and Emira feels a mighty urge to poke him like she did when they were children.

“What are you doing up so early?” Emira asks instead, turning her attention to Amity. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping and dreaming of Luz smooching you all over?”

“I  _ never  _ dream about that!” Amity shouts, even though everyone present knows that Amity  _ always  _ dreams about that. “Also, I’m up because Edric didn’t let me sleep with his creepy sleep-talk and because we need to go to the Owl House today anyway.”

“We do?” Emira blinks.

“Yes!” Edric grins victoriously. “I almost forgot! In my attempts to do something good for the family, I scheduled a meeting with Empress Lilith today.”

“Oh.” Emira tries very hard not to wince.  _ There’s zero point in that meeting because the Empress does not control the market. But… At least Ed is trying.  _ “That’s… very good, Ed!”

“I helped!” Amity pitches in enthusiastically. “Lilith will be waiting at the Owl House so, technically, it’s better if we are super early because Lilith does  _ not  _ like to wait.”

“Don’t worry.” Emira smiles. “We won’t make her wait.”

_______________

“Hello, Amity. Emira. Edric.” Lilith accentuates every name. “Very nice of you to make me wait.”

“Sorry, Lilith.” Amity is the first to reach through the doorway (because Amity is the only one that Hooty is scared of) and give Lilith a hug. “Ed made us stop at the candy store, then Emira saw a lottery ticket stand and bought every single ticket to ‘maximise her chances’—”

“It  _ does  _ maximise my chances.” Emira enters the Owl House, shaking Lilith’s hand. “Hi, Lilith, good to see you.”

Edric rolls his eyes. Seriously, those heathens with zero manners, addressing the Empress by the name with no reverence at all.

So Edric does the gallant thing and taps Lilith's shoulder with a fist. “Hey, Empress, what’s up?”

_ See? That’s how you show respect to a royal person.  _

“Why exactly have you asked me here?” Lilith addresses the eldest Blight, motioning to the three to sit down on the sofa — but Emira, Edric and Amity are already on the sofa. “Uh, you do know that, legally speaking, you’re only supposed to sit down  _ after _ — Nevermind.”

“I have a business proposition!” Edric announces pompously, hoping to make Emira proud.  _ Truly my genius is severely underestimated in this family. _

Emira does not seem amused but gives Edric an extremely fake smile and offers Lilith a polite one which basically says, ‘Please forgive my brother, he’s a bit of an idiot but we love him anyway’.

“I am listening.” Lilith nods from the chair, trying to look as regal as she can in a chair that makes her butt sink in so that her knees are at the level of her chest. 

Eda should probably invest in another chair.  _ Just like we should probably invest in another sofa.  _

“I am proposing a mutually beneficial solution to the Crown’s problems,” Edric carries on in a businesslike tone. Well, what seems to him a businesslike tone, that is.

“The Crown has no problems,” Lilith responds with a diplomatic lie.

“It’s no secret,” Edric takes out his phone, “that the Crown has a deficit of ten billion snails.”

“It  _ is  _ a secret!” Lilith sputters out, trying to stand up from the chair (to no avail). “It’s a state secret, how did you get—”

“Jeez, Empress, chill,” Edric replies with his trademark respect for the royal person. “I bought it on the Secret Web, everyone knows it, get on with the times.”

“It’s called the Dark Web!”

The door flings open, and inside marches Luz, the cheerful human that Amity has such a giant and obvious crush on. Obvious to anyone but Luz herself, that is. 

“Hi, everyone, cool to see you, hi, Amity, you’re super pretty today, okay, I need to hide this bag before Eda and King get back,” Luz quickly supplies, dragging a giant sack behind her. A sack that is also… grunting. “Don’t ask me why!” 

_ Wasn’t going to,  _ Edric thinks as the human disappears upstairs and Amity stops hyperventilating.

“So what was your proposal again?” Lilith breaks the silence.

Now is Edric’s time to shine. So he straightens his back and victoriously announces, “We would like to buy your castle for ten billion snails to cover the Crown’s debt.”

Emira spits out her… whatever she was drinking, and grabs Edric by the elbow, tugging on it sharply. “Edric, have you lost your mind?!  _ Less  _ spending.  _ Less _ , not more!”

“Less is more,” Edric says wisely, but, as always, his sisters are too shallow to understand the heights of his genius. “Besides, I propose that Lilith become our tenant and start paying us money.”

“I’m pretty sure you botched your grammar at some point,” Amity remarks from her side of the sofa and gets up to go to the kitchen. (Probably to get some water because Amity is a thirsty witch.)

Emira falls silent and it is obvious that she’s making calculations in her head. 

But Edric has got that covered too. The boy switches the app on his scroll and announces, “If we charge forty thousand snails per month, we will be able to return our investment in approximately twenty years.”

Emira seems genuinely impressed, and Amity is typing on her scroll as she returns from the kitchen — probably making a chart.

“This seems reasonable,” Lilith says, rubbing her chin royally, while her body is (royally) stuck forever in the plush chair. “The rent is steep, but the lump sum from the sale would cover the, erm, alleged Crown debt.”

“Well, Lilith,” Emira shrugs, “capitalism knows no mercy.”

“Right.” Lilith nods. “I guess I’ll just have to raise taxes for the rich so I have enough money to pay rent for my own castle.”

“What I meant is — capitalism  _ does _ know mercy!” Emira immediately supplies, because, frankly, the Blights are the one percent  _ of  _ the one percent. “We can definitely negotiate a discount if you  _ don’t  _ raise taxes!”

“Is this a bad time?” comes the quiet, reserved, most beautiful voice in the Universe.

Jerbo is standing in the corner shyly, his gorgeous brown hair longer than usual, his face clean as day, his teeth white as the blinding snow of the Knee. 

“No, Jerbo, please feel free to come in!” Lilith urges, finally getting up from the trap that is the overly-soft chair. “I am just engaging in some royal business, but our project is more important!”

“You have a project with the Empress?” Edric asks, impressed with his wonderful never-to-be-boyfriend.

“Oh, yes.” Jerbo blushes slightly and looks away and it’s all because Edric is a stupid bastard who has done nothing but make Jerbo uncomfortable. “I am going to arrange the Royal Garden to make the castle more presentable to human diplomats.”

“Well,” Emira grins, her eyes shifting between Edric and Jerbo, “I guess you’ll have to spend a lot of time at our apartment because as the new owner of the castle I’d like to be in the know.”

Edric loves his twin sister, but right now wouldn’t hesitate to stab her with a rusty spear. 

“Still negotiable!” Lilith exclaims, walking past the Blights to greet Jerbo, who does a proper half-bow.

“Is Viney also around?” Emira asks hopefully, looking around the bleak interior. 

“No, because I’m my own person,” Jerbo replies with a wince. “Sorry, I’m sorry. She’s just been getting on my nerves a lot about how you two are perfect for each other and so on and so forth.”

“Because we ARE!” Emira exlclaims, slapping her fist against her palm — which makes Jerbo a bit uneasy so Edric is preparing to intervene.

“Yeah…” The brunette boy huffs, rubbing the back of his head in the cutest way possible. “Viney always goes on how she wants to rub you here and rub you there and rub you everywhere.”

Emira gets up from the sofa, then sits down. Then gets up again, her knees wobbling slightly, only the tightness of the human-produced jeans keeping her stiff enough for her not to collapse. “She… does?”

“Yes, all the time!” Jerbo winces once again: it is clear the shy boy is not enjoying all this attention. So Edric, naturally, wants to steal Jerbo away and take him to a quiet place and kiss the worry out of him. Just to clarify, Edric is  _ not  _ a pervert, and those theoretical actions would only serve one purpose: to make Jerbo feel better.

“I mean, I don’t want to know if you two are getting some,” Jerbo continues to speak to Emira, “because I sure am not getting any so why rub it in my face?”

“You… aren’t?” Ed asks hopefully.

“Why would I?” For the first time, Jerbo addresses Edric directly, and the Blight boy hopes it’s not awkward. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

_ He doesn’t have a boyfriend, thank Titan!! _

“Yay chastity!” Edric screams happily, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Sorry if I seem a bit pissy, I’m just really on edge.” Jerbo steps away from Lilith, who has been listening to all the teenage drama in total silence, as behoves the royal person.

“I could take some edge off you?” Edric suggests breathlessly.  _ Oh Titan, why am I like this, seriously, what the fuck is wrong with me. _

“L-like a massage?” Jerbo’s face turns almost completely red — for some reason unknown to Edric.

“Yes,” Edric lies because the only massage Edric had in mind was… erm, too explicit to even think about.

“Okay, while you two, erm, do whatever you do,” Emira walks to the side, accidentally knocking over what seems to be an ancient and very expensive vase, “I’m gonna negotiate the castle sale with Lilith.”

“I’m gonna negotiate some classes with Luz!” Amity provides eagerly, looking upstairs with longing.

Everyone disappears in a matter of mere seconds, and Edric is alone with Jerbo, his (not his!) beautiful, quiet, lovable Jerbo, Titan,  _ why  _ does it hurt so much to look at him?!   


“You look beautiful today,” Edric whispers, taking a step in Jerbo’s direction.

“T-thank you, Ed.” Jerbo’s eyes widen and he licks his lips — for some reason. “You always look beautiful.”

Edric takes another step and motions at the chair. “Would you like that massage now?”

“Yes, please.” Jerbo walks towards the chair on very stiff legs (wow he  _ does  _ need a massage) and sits there, eyes closed. 

Edric starts rubbing Jerbo’s upper traps and shoulders, and the other boy starts moaning slightly, which sets Edric on fire, of course, but Edric is a professional (no he isn’t) so he keeps pinching and rubbing the tension away from his never-to-be-boyfriend-because-Edric-is-a-failure.

_ Okay, I need something extremely non-romantic to talk to Jerbo about so that this doesn’t become awkward.  _ “So… how’s Viney?” Edric asks because Viney is the least romantic person across the Isles.

Jerbo sighs, and the amateur masseuse questions whether it was a good topic to talk about. “She’s been pressuring me into confessing my feelings to my crush — but the problem is, he is not into me.”

Edric sighs, looking at Jerbo’s hair dreamily. “Tell me about it.”

Edric is devastated. Because, while Jerbo is single, Jerbo does have a crush, and it’s the end of the world as Edric knows it.

But then again, it doesn’t come as a surprise. The non-date only intensified how much Jerbo likes Edric, and just how painfully platonic those feelings are. It’s driving Ed insane how he never managed to find the courage to confess his own romantic feelings towards his friend, and the friend in question has found someone he could be actually attracted to.

Or, perhaps, Edric calms himself, Jerbo had had a crush long before Edric started pining for him. The fact that he, Edric, didn’t know Jerbo wasn’t into guys, was a shield, but Jerbo might have had feelings for that other person for months, maybe years. 

Naturally, that person is intelligent like Jerbo, gorgeous like Jerbo, and doesn’t drink tomato juice mixed with vinegar, as tasty as it sounds. Jerbo’s crush is cute, and nice, and confident, and Edric shouldn’t be jealous because Jerbo is his friend, and friends are supposed to be supportive.

“Who has a crush?” Luz asks suddenly, emerging from the stairs, dragging Amity by the elbow. 

“Jerbo has a crush!” Amity supplies immediately, wiggling her eyebrow at Edric.  _ Mittens, you traitor.  _

“Oooh, I can figure out his crush!” Luz disappears for a split-second and reappears in a deer-hunting cap. “I’m the best at picking up the faintest clues!”

_ Ah, so my little sister fell in love with an idiot,  _ Edric concludes. _ Alas, it seems only the male Blight heir is actually smart and insightful. ...Ah, who am I kidding, we’re all worthless idiots. ...Well, no, we’re idiots worth over a trillion snails. _

“I, uh…” Jerbo shifts his feet uneasily, his (best) butt sunk deeply in the chair. “I’d rather you didn’t, Luz. My crush, he is… He is very funny and nice and endearing. He’s cute and brave and maybe a bit brash but that’s what makes him exciting.”

Jerbo smiles and looks at Edric behind his shoulder (now that’s just cruel). “He can do things that I never can, and he never gives up. He is a fighter, and yet he is the softest, most wonderful boy I’ve ever met. And he is amazing at giving massages.”

Edric’s heart sinks even lower into his gut. There is no way Edric can compete with someone like that —  _ and  _ that boy gives better massages too! There is no way Edric can outdo that crush of Jerbo’s. And so, Edric realises that he will never be Jerbo’s boyfriend, because Jerbo’s crush is cute and funny and nice and Edric is a slob, a bore, and a doofus. 

Edric almost cries, but smiles despite himself for everyone’s sake. Because that’s what Edric does: he perseveres, no matter what. Life has given him many kicks in the balls, but Edric has gotten up and now Edric has balls of steel. No, well, he doesn’t, of course, because Edric cries easily, and, to be entirely honest, Ed is a very soft boy, but when push comes to shove, he can be unwavering.

So, for Jerbo’s sake, Edric manages a weak, “I-if you want, I can try to help you woo your crush. I mean, whoever he is, I can try to set you two up.”

Jerbo grows pale, and Edric understands how out of line he is. First there was a stupid date he brought upon shy, wonderful Jerbo — who doesn’t even like him. And now he is proposing more meddling in Jerbo’s personal life.  _ Stupid Edric, a stupid damn idiot. I should just jump off a fucking cliff for being like this towards Jerbo. Whoever his crush is, he is aeons ahead from me.  _

“S-sorry, Ed, it seems you’re the only person who can’t help me here,” Jerbo says sorrowfully, and Edric feels like running away and hiding forever because if he makes Jerbo cry, Edric will break his own fucking bones. Or ask Emira to break his bones, whatever goes.

It’s nothing, really. No big deal. No biggie. All cool. And the tears? Well, it’s just residue. It’s just nerves. And it has nothing to do with Jerbo. It’s not a problem. 

_ Just the boy of my dreams has a crush on someone else.  _


	11. In which Edric comes out to a completely random person

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edric and Emira have negotiations, and Jerbo has an emotional crisis.

Emira is _this_ close to securing her investment in this factory. 

And she really, really, _really_ hopes Edric will not mess it up. The negotiations are almost over, and the humans have agreed on the terms. Which are not very profitable but Emira will take whatever she can get because she knows that bilateral relations have only recently been established and, as humans say, ‘the early bird gets the worm’. Besides, anti-witch sentiment is on the rise with the humans, so Emira needs to give leeway whenever she can, lest her contracts go to some luckier humans.

“Edric, you have to put your signature here,” Emira points at the exact spot on the paper and draws her index finger horizontally along the line.

“I know, I know.” Edric takes his pen — a wonderful human invention — and presses the tip against the contract. “Contrary to popular belief, I am not a complete moron.”

Emira would argue that point, but instead nods to Edric and the humans across the table, an old lady that looks like she owns the world and a younger boy who is so obviously her aspiring assistant.

The old lady picks up the contract and looks over it with deliberate slowness over her tiny rectangle spectacles. “Full signature, Mister Blight,” she creaks, and Emira blushes in embarrassment for her brother.

“Full signature means your full name and today’s date,” Emira whispers to Edric, who doesn’t seem embarrassed in the slightest.

“Oh woe is me,” Ed laments in a mocking tone, taking off his pink tie. (Emira tried. She really did.) “I didn’t properly sign this rip-off of a document.”

“Excuse me?” the human lady exclaims in a thick British accent. 

“Excuse me?” Edric mocks in a much worse British accent. “You are giving us an annual yield way below whatever you offered your human partners. Yes, we checked.”

Emira is ashamed to say she didn’t check, but, frankly, even if the deal falls through (like so many do), at least she’ll have Edric’s accent adventures to tell Mittens about when the two get home.

“I say!” the lady exclaims with the primness of a million sticks. ( _Like the one that’s up her butt_ , Emira thinks.) “If you two witches have no interest in our mutual agreement, then, perhaps, we should reconsider with which party we shall be privy to a contract.”

“First, no one speaks like that anymore,” Edric replies before Emira can smoothen the conversation. “Like, anywhere. Come on, you know what I’m talking about!” he addresses the young human man, who nods sheepishly, much to his boss’s disapproval.

“Second, I’d _love_ to just stand up and go away.” Edric smirks. “I would _love_ to see you make a contract with humans, what with the IRS looming over you in the United States of, uh, America? It’s a silly name, America is a continent, and that country takes like a tiny piece of it.”

Everyone just blinks at Edric, who carries on after a moment of consideration. “So you have five, maybe six jurisdictions on Earth where you can avoid sanctions against your factories. Which means that your export business is all but done, and your only choice is to expand to the Boiling Isles — where, I assure you, you will _not_ find another couple of witches who’ll invest in a dying enterprise.”

Another silence envelops the room, and the giant oval table seems particularly empty now. It gets dark, the weather outside getting rainy, and the windows stop letting in enough sunlight, so the younger human (a pretty nice blonde boy who almost looks like a girl, so Emira can admit he’s cute) uses a remote to flick on the lights.

“So I highly suggest that you reconsider the terms in our favour,” Edric concludes, “and put your _full_ signature on the new contract.” 

The boy grins victoriously. “Oh, and I’m gay. Take that.”

“Why… Why does everyone just see an old person and assume they’re homophobic?” the boss lady questions in an accent that’s significantly less posh.

The younger human blushes, casting a glance at Edric. “Are you, by any chance, single?”

“No,” Edric lies, trying to keep professional. Emira admires that. “I will be waiting for the new terms by the end of our… excursion.”

The Twins quickly say their farewells and rush out of the conference room to hide on the production floor while the owner and her assistant decide whether they’ll kick out the witches or give in to their terms. Hopefully the latter.

“Thanks,” Emira says as the two siblings walk past countless white-enveloped workers whose faces are likewise hidden under respirators. “What you did there was either a spark of genius or incredibly stupid.”

“Either way,” the witch carries on as they walk an overpass that gives a view onto a dozen cisterns where they produce the dubious drink called ‘chocomil’ that Edric seems to love so much. Amity too. “Either way, what you did was brave, especially in this horrible economy.”

“Yeah, I wish I was brave enough to date Jerbo,” Edric laments, “and confront his crush and punch him in the face to prove my fragile masculinity so that Jerbo learns about it and stops talking to me forever because of my show of ridiculous machismo that serves no purpose other than to adhere to a strange, antique gender role.”

Emira groans mentally and then groans out loud because, seriously, Edric deserves a double groan. And more than that. In Emira’s mind surfaces a tiny court with tiny Emiras seated all around, with a tiny Emira in a wig speaking from the defendant’s bench.

_“The defence would like to point out,” the tiny Emira points out, fixing her wig, “that the murder of the aforementioned Edric Blight was justified as per the fact that Edric, our brother, is a Titan-damn fool who wouldn’t stop bawling about his crush on Jerbo. Thus, Emira Blight, the defendant, must be excused.”_

_“The prosecution,” another tiny Emira pitches in from the opposite stand, “would like to ask the jury and the Presiding judge to be lenient towards the defendant on account of Edric being a damn nuisance.”_

_“Silence!” The tiny justice Emira tries to lift her gravel, but can’t, since it’s made of gold. “Being the benevolent and impartial judge that I am, I rule that Emira Blight is innocent and the murder victim — that is, Edric Blight — is the one who is guilty of his murder. The family of the deceased can file an appeal within thirty business days.”_

_“Thank you, your honour!” a tiny Emira stands up from the audience benches. “We repeal our right for an appeal. Everyone can see it’s Edric’s fault.”_

_“Seems fair.” The tiny judge slams her first against the table instead. “Court adjourned!”_

“Come on, Edric,” Emira says out loud, “if you want to keep being on friendly terms with Jerbo, you gotta keep up your usual narrative.”

“It’s so hard, Em, when he’s there with his beautiful smile and his wonderful jokes and it’s your fault because you made me realise that I’m in love with Jerbo!”

“How is this—” Emira stops in her tracks, the idea of murdering Edric more appealing than ever. “Did I also make you gay?”

“Yes! Yes you did!” Edric stops as well and points his finger at his sister. “When we were fourteen you came out to me and after that I realised I was gay too.”

“Great.” Emira sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Well, sorry for making you gain integrity.”

“Who needs integrity when there is Jerbo?” Edric starts wailing again, and Emira really wishes Ed would drop his constant lovestruck laments and just get some action with the blonde assistant and maybe stop getting on Emira’s nerves.

“Look at Mittens,” Emira tries to reason with her stubborn twin.

“I don't wanna look at Mittens, I wanna look at Jerbo, preferably a shirtless Jerbo, wrapped in bacon and—”

“I _mean_ ,” Emira stresses before Edric can share any more of his sick fantasies, “Mittens keeps being friends with Luz even though it’s hard for her to have an unreciprocated crush on her.”

“If I could use words like ‘unreciprocated’, I would also make a compelling argument.” Edric crosses his arms and looks away at the cisterns, where chocomil is slowly rotating in amazing quantities.

“Come on, you want to keep being friends with Jerbo. Try to think back to before you learned he was gay,” Emira reasons, while Edric hangs his head low in defeat. “Tell you what. You keep building a friendly, non-romantic relationship with Jerbo and maybe one day he’ll see what a catch you are.”

“You… really think so?” Edric’s hopeful voice is on the verge of tears, and Emira really wants Ed to hold back tears until they are out of the human realm. Or at least the factory. 

“Edric, you’re my twin. If I’m a catch, that means so are you.” Emira smiles at the boy, who raises his head and looks at her with his weak, childish eyes — which Ed always resorts to when he needs protection. “So, go back to your usual dynamics. Whatever you two do. Keep doing it.”

“Usually I do something reckless and extraordinary and then I send Jerbo a picture of it and we talk about it,” Edric says slowly, and Emira lets out the breath she’s been holding.

“Great!” The female witch clasps her hands. “So keep doing that and—” _Wait. No no no wait, abort—_

Edric beams with a smile. “Thanks, Em, I’m gonna go jump into that cistern of chocomil over there.” 

“Wait, no, that’s not—”

Too late: Edric is already taking a running start and, with a yell that scares off any remaining workers, takes a dive into the now-hopelessly-ruined giant cistern.

The very next moment, the old lady walks out on the floor, her assistant by her side. “We have decided,” she says with her posh, formal intonation while Emira tries to cover the view of the cisterns with her back, “to offer you a higher stake in the company for the same price. We would like to also give you a seat on the board, and—”

The grey-haired lady stops mid-sentence and looks at one of the cisterns, from which a very happy Edric emerges, waving at the two. “Is… Is your brother—”

“Oh yes!” Emira beams with a very well-practised fake smile. “He is indeed performing an inspection.”

“An inspection?” the assistant chimes in, blushing at the sight of Edric’s wet shirt clinging to his chest.

“Yes, a standard witch inspection,” Emira nods enthusiastically. “Standard procedure on the Boiling Isles.” _Please buy my lie so that I can buy your factory._

“This is why we used to burn witches,” the old lady mutters and turns back. “You will find the papers in the conference room. My assistant will… assist you.”

“Of course!” Emira smiles at the embarrassed still-nameless boy and glares at the old lady’s back. “I will complete a hostile takeover and take away your company, your funds, and everything you hold dear, you fucking xenophobic witch-hater.”

“Excuse me?” The soon-to-be-ex-boss looks over her shoulder.

“I said,” Emira reiterates with the same sugarly smile, “I will hold on to your company, dear! It’s a _steal_!”

The old lady huffs and walks away, and the boy just looks at Emira pleadingly. “Please take me to the Boiling Isles with you, Grandma is impossible to be around!”

Emira ponders for a moment. She knows better than anyone how hopeless one can feel around horrible relatives. Yet, Emira is not altruistic: she can’t cross paths with powerful humans yet, not until she has established her dominance in international trade. Amity and Edric come first. 

So she sighs. “Sorry, uh, mate?” _Hope that’s the right human expression._ “Right now I really can’t. Here’s my number though,” Emira hands the boy a business card, on which she has put her personal human phone number in ink. “The ink is magic, it won’t wash away. Text me if you need help, okay?”

“Okay!” The boy brightens up. “Thank you so much. Um…” He blushes, shifting from foot to foot. “So, uh, do you have another sexy twin brother or—”

“Go away before I reconsider my kindness.”

“Yes, ma’am!” The boy nods, then bows, then gives a salute, then runs away panicking.

Emira chuckles, motioning for Edric to come over. _That’s how we do business in the Blight Family._

_______________ 

Okay, so Viney is a pretty talented healer.

Yes, she might be young, and lack experience, but she makes up for it with vigour and enthusiasm — and endless learning. Which is the reason why Viney is the only doctor apprentice who is actually allowed to heal actual patients — witches, demons, and occasional human tourists (but only under supervision).

However, this kind of patient is new.

“She’s been weak and depressed recently,” Jerbo is explaining, leaning over, his face scrunched in worry. 

“Uhuh.” Viney nods, blinking at her best friend.

“She hasn’t been eating well or drinking enough water, so I am really worried, Vi, I think she might be dying.” 

The soft boy is on the verge of crying, so Viney squats next to him and places her hand on the trembling shoulder carefully. “You…” Viney tries really hard to find the right words. “You do realise we’re talking about a flower, right?”

“Of course!” Jerbo snaps angrily, and Viney recoils at the intensity that is usually alien to the soft-spoken boy. “Can you heal her?”

Viney chews on her bottom lips and eyes the red flower whose petals are looking down towards the ground, the stem grey-ish and far from its natural luscious green. “I can try to cast a healing spell but I dunno if it’ll work on a plant.”

“Of course it’ll work!” Jerbo is looking at the flower lovingly, as if it’s his own baby. “She’s a living being, of course it’ll work on her.”

“Okay, here goes nothing.” Viney leans over the plant, trying not to get even dirtier than she already is, and a bright yellow light shines across the greenhouse, the energy from her finger pouring over the flower. 

Just like Viney expected, there is no visible development. _Perhaps flowers don’t heal instantaneously?_ Viney knows that humans take time to heal, for some reason, so perhaps for plants it’s the same? 

“Sorry, Jerbo,” Viney says, really apologetic. “I tried my best.”

“It’s okay,” Jerbo replies bitterly. “First Edric rejects me, then—”

Suddenly, the red plant starts emitting a sort of glow, reminiscent of Viney’s magic, and, with a flash, the petals grow damp and thick, and the stem strands strong, no longer looming over the ground.

Jerbo yelps happily and throws his arms around his friend, who just smiles amicably. “It worked, Viney, it worked, thank you!” Jerbo’s smile turns into a slightly more sarcastic one. “Well, now my _only_ problem is Edric rejecting me.”

“I can’t believe Ed would reject you,” Viney says sympathetically. “Do you want me to talk to Emira about it, ask if he’s seeing someone already?”

“No,” Jerbo shakes his head, “I am adamant I got the message. I told him directly that I have a crush on him — and he said he’d help me ‘get together with my crush’,” Jerbo mocks Edric in a low-pitched voice that doesn’t sound anything like Edric. It’s actually closer to Emira.

“Did you use the exact words ‘Edric, I have a crush on you’?” Viney clarifies, trying to clear her palms of all the soil as she keeps holding the stem of the flower very gently. “In that order? Repeated twice in a really slow voice?”

“Well, no,” Jerbo admits. “I kind of referenced it very obviously. He was giving me a massage—”

Viney whistles, and Jerbo looks at her sternly.

“—and I said that my crush is the best at giving massages.”

Viney snorts and shakes her head, her hands still holding the stem of the flower while it regenerates. “I can bet a hundred snails that Ed probably thought it means you have a crush on another boy who is better at giving massages than Edric.”

Jerbo’s already-pretty-white face goes even more pale. “Oh no… I screwed everything up, no wonder Edric hates me now!!”

“He doesn’t hate you, Jerbo.” Viney finally lets go of the stem, and the flower stands tall, its petals opening upwards. “Look, just keep doing what you’re doing, eventually he’ll see what a wonderful person you are and he’ll fall in love with you and you’ll get married and you’ll have beautiful plant babies.”

“You really think so?” Jerbo sounds way too insecure for someone who should be hopeful.

“Well, I’m not sure about plant babies,” Viney admits, “but yeah, I think so.”

“Thank you, Viney, you are a great friend.” Jerbo takes Viney’s hand and squeezes it gratefully. Smearing it with even more soil. _Of course._

“So what do you guys usually do?” Viney asks, looking at the flower, which reminds her a lot of Emira. “I mean, what is your usual dynamic?”

“Usually Ed does something ridiculous — and endearing — and sends me a photo.” Jerbo’s smile fades instantly. “But he hasn’t done that ever since the disastrous date.”

“Maybe he just needs some time,” Viney suggests, taking the pot carefully. “Hey, I was gonna ask… Can I give this flower to Emira?”

“Yes, as long as you remind her not to cut or pluck the flower,” the gardener responds automatically. Then his eyes fall on the plant. “Um… you do know that is a passion flower?”

“Yes?” Viney isn’t sure where her friend is leading with that.

“Well, uh.” Jerbo scratches the back of his head — which is kind of disgusting because his hands still have soil residue. Then again, as a gardener, he always has soil on his hands. “You usually give someone a passion flower when you are ready to, um, be _passionate_ with them.”

“Oh, I’m pretty passionate towards Emira!” Viney boasts.

“No…” Jerbo shakes his head. “I mean, you are basically telling Emira you want to be… _passionate_ with her. _With_ her, not towards her.”

For a moment, Viney’s face surely resembles the colour of the flower, but then the girl collects herself and smiles. “Well, okay, it’s about time anyway. I’ll take the flower, please.”

“Okay, here you—” Suddenly, Jerbo’s scroll bleeps and he grabs it with the speed of a sprinter and the precision of a fencer. “Oh, never mind, Edric took a dive in a cistern of chocolate milk.”

“So all’s good with the world?” Viney smirks, eyeing the beautiful flower she is going to give to Emira.

Jerbo nods. “For now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pretty much a Jerbric fic at this point, and I don’t even have control over it anymore because those two have hijacked it with their chronic inability to just freaking start dating. Also I am pretty sure chocomil is NOT produced like that :D
> 
> Thank you so much for your inspiring comments, all of you who find the time to comment! <3


	12. In which Edric buys some dietary supplements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jerbo works out, Viney works her tongue, and Emira works on some of her issues.

Some people like reading. Books are a great source of knowledge and contain an endless universe of sweet, exciting escapism. Checking out books from the library is a breeze, and what with the new technology, you don’t even _have to_ go to the library — you can rent books directly from your scroll.

Some people like listening to music. Streaming spells are all the rage nowadays, and music presents the benefit of only taking your auditory attention, while you can partake in other activities. 

Then, there are people who like active sports, and those who like running, and those who like Grudgby, and sky racing, and many, many other free-time activities.

Viney, however, has a much better hobby: making out with her girlfriend.

Emira is soft and squishy and wonderful, and she is like a sweet, sour, bitter, angry, raspy passion flower that Viney can’t get enough of. Emira’s lips are always delicious, and as a qualified medical professional Viney feels like she needs a 100%-Emira diet to be completely healthy. 

And the best part is that Emira loves Viney back, and loves kissing her, and touching her, and every touch electrifies Viney and excites her more than anything in the world.

Overcome with emotion, Viney shifts her attention mid-kiss and presses her lips against Emira’s neck.

Emira moans.

Now, Viney is very observant. And Viney also has a natural affinity for empiric evidence. So, she decides to test the hypothesis. And kisses Emira at the exact same spot, this time giving her skin a gentle love bite.

Emira moans even more loudly with her mouth open, almost falling off the bed.

Viney is pleased with the outcome and yet opts for more evidence, letting her hot breath fall on Emira’s neck.

The girl starts shaking slightly and Viney withdraws. “Wow.”

Somehow the idea of her being able to make her girlfriend shake like that without touching her is both scientifically exciting and just plain exciting.

“You… you found my secret spot,” Emira whispers awkwardly, averting her eyes.

“You mean the C-spot?” Viney wonders, shifting on the bed with excitement. “The convergence spot?”

“Viney!” Emira blushes, quickly looking around, as if someone might be listening in. Actually, knowing Emira’s brother, someone _might_ be listening in. “N-not out loud!”

“What? I’m almost a doctor, we’re almost eighteen, it’s okay.”

Apparently, it’s not okay because Emira falls silent, and the room is uncomfortable and stuffy and small (despite being big and well-ventilated), and the young healer feels like she has misstepped, or perhaps overstepped her boundaries. What if Emira thinks this relationship is just a fling? Or — what’s even more terrifying — what if Emira thinks that Viney is only in it for a quickie and doesn’t take it seriously?

“Vi, where are we going with this?”

_Oh no._

Viney’s blood runs cold (metaphorically, as a doctor Viney knows witches’ blood is always hot) and her gut starts doing flips. Except it’s set in place but who cares about science and anatomy when Emira is so apparently going to break up with her?!

“I, I don’t know,” Viney replies like the wise, educated person she is. _Fuck_. 

Emira sits up in bed, her (gorgeous) bare legs sliding down to the floor so that she can put on the slippers. Usually Viney would be reminded how adorable her girlfriend is, but right now Emira is sombre and uncomfortable and sad, and Viney is sure that yes, Emira does not see a future for the two of them. _Fuck fuck fuck._

“I want to know if we’re for real or if it’s just a fling,” Emira confirms Viney’s worst suspicions, staring at her intently.

Viney averts her eyes. “I. I love you,” is all that the witch can muster, tears welling up in her throat. 

Viney tries focusing her attention on the objects around her — the slightly-open window (Emira likes it cool), the empty set of drawers (Emira likes it neat), the spotless mirror (Emira is beautiful and her reflection must be perfect), Viney’s drawer near the bed (Viney loves Emira more than breathing), Viney’s clothes piled in the corner (Emira lets her, and if Emira dumps her, Viney will die).

“I love you too,” Emira says, “but I need to know where we are going with this relationship. I’ve been there before, Vi.” 

Viney lifts her eyes in surprise. In fact, surprise (a completely natural reaction) is immediately replaced with jealousy because Viney isn’t Emira’s first girlfriend. 

“It seemed perfect — like now.” Emira is looking at the wall now, and Viney can only imagine how hard it is for her girlfriend to talk about it. “We were really happy, and it was so fast, and before I knew it we were… _doing_ it.”

“Having sex?” Viney clarifies like the medical professional that she is.

Emira nods. “It wasn’t good. In fact, my experience was pretty crappy, and well, we broke up afterwards.” Once again, Emira is drilling Viney with her eyes, except this time Viney can withstand the intensity of the Blight eyes. “I don’t want us to break up, Vi, which is why I need to know how you see us, our relationship.”

All right, Viney should be prepared for tough questions. In her medical career, she’s certain to face a lot of difficult questions that require answers. Like ‘how can I perform a birthing ritual’ or ‘is this permaglue spell permanent’ or ‘if I want to drink human hot sauce, do I need a death wish first’. 

So Viney answers. “At first, I was just attracted to you. I found it cute and adorable when you would get flustered around me and when we started dating I didn’t take it seriously at first. But…” Viney smiles, hoping that Emira takes it for what it’s worth — sheer honesty. “Day after day I’ve found myself more and more attracted to you, and then I just realised that… I love you. I love you and even though you’re my first girlfriend I want to eventually marry you and live with you and have a life with you.” 

Emira winces and Viney suddenly realises she might have been coming on too hard. ( _Not even gonna mentally reference that phrasing._ ) “Sorry, Em. I’m sorry if it sounded clingy or pathetic or anything. I’ll understand it if for you this whole thing is just a minor fling.”

“It’s not.” Emira sighs and winces once again, as if in pain. “It’s just… Look, I want to keep being myself, you know? And you being yourself. I don’t want to be a lovestruck idiot like my brother.”

Viney nods, even though she is pretty certain that Emira is the definition of a lovestruck idiot. Scientifically speaking. 

“But I also want us to move our relationship forward.” Emira still isn’t smiling, and worry is still alive in Viney’s gut. (Technically, her brain, but who cares about neurons and what-not.) “I’m not ready for sex yet, Viney, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry if that makes you want to break it off.”

“What.” 

Okay, surely Viney must have misheard. Because Emira is clearly not making any sense. So Viney explains, “Do _you_ want to break up with me?”

“What?” Now, it seems, it’s Emira’s turn to blink back. “No, of course not! What I’m asking is — do _you_ want to break up with _me_?”

Viney wants to say ‘what’ once again, but that’s already one too many ‘whats’. So instead, she says, “Why would I ever break up with you? I mean, I cannot guarantee we will never break up, but I don’t want us to _ever_ be over.”

Emira finally sighs in relief, and Viney feels both confused and stupid. “Sorry. I just… All this recent sex-related stuff has reminded me of… _her_. And I don’t want to mentally go there again. Not now. It was too painful, and I’m afraid that if I have sex with you, I’ll associate it with that horrible experience.”

An unpleasant shiver runs down Viney’s spine. (No biological discrepancies here.) “If… If you want, the hospital where I’m interning has a group for those who have undergone… sexual… abuse.” Even saying that sounds wrong, and Viney sincerely hopes that whoever that girlfriend was, she’s dead now.

“Oh, no, no,” Emira immediately dissuades Viney’s worst fears. “It was a bad experience, but… Look. Halfway through I thought we should stop but I didn’t say anything so I kinda faked it and my girlfriend at the time got kinda horrified and we kinda broke up. Nothing more to it.”

For a moment, Viney tries hard to process all of this. “There is already a lot to it, and I, I feel so privileged you would share something like this with me.”

“Of course.” Emira finally (finally!) leans in and kisses Viney on the lips. “I trust you, my futurewifesaywhat.”

“What?” Viney breaks the no-whats rule and instantly realises it. “Oooh, that’s clever, now I have to marry you.”

Emira laughs back. “That was the exact comedic relief I needed.”

“Em, I’m gonna start working out, can you ask your girlfriend if she can check this human stuff for me?”

Emira groans, looking at the figure of her brother (a very attractive guy, but then again, he looks exactly like Emira, so Viney is biased) looming in the doorway with a plastic jar of sorts. “That is _not_ the comedic relief I need. Edric, didn’t I teach you how to knock?”

“Yeah, you did,” Edric nods. “Thanks, Em, that’s a very useful skill! So, as I was saying—”

“We were in the middle of a _private_ conversation,” Emira presses on, and Viney doesn’t know where to feel indignation or laugh. 

“Oh, sorry.” Edric’s smile fades for a moment. “So, Viney, you were finally sexing my sister?”

Viney has finally settled on what she’s supposed to be feeling: embarrassment. “N-no!” _Why am I even embarrassed?_ Perhaps Viney needs to spend more time with Emira’s brother, because getting flustered because of her girlfriend’s siblings cannot be good for her relationship with said girlfriend.

“Oh, my condolences.” Edric nods solemnly. “I mean, I knew Em was ugly, but I didn’t know she was _that_ ugly. Here’s some advice: next time, try to avoid looking at her face and—”

“Her face is the most beautiful thing across the Isles!” Viney shouts, her face consuming more blood than necessary for a healthy blood flow.

“Edric, we are twins, and you are an idiot,” Emira replies calmly, obviously used to such insinuations on her brother’s part. “We look the same so by calling me ugly, you’re calling _yourself_ ugly.”

“Well, unlike you, I want to stop being ugly!” Edric announces, without realising that he’s only further humiliating himself. _Seriously, what an interesting witch._ “Jerbo texted me that he’s started working out so I’m gonna start working out too and we’re gonna be working out together and maybe I’ll look more attractive to him, and maybe he’ll like me better. Oh, by the way, Viney, what type of boys is Jerbo attracted to?”

“Uh…” Viney tries to listen past the barrage of words. “He… he likes you?”

_Crap what if I wasn’t supposed to say that? What if it was Jerbo’s secret and he trusted me with it and now I’m literally telling the person—_

“Haha, very funny.” Edric scowls. “Don’t be mean! I’m asking seriously, what’s his type?”

Okay, now Edric is asking for it. “Tall, green-haired, and utterly idiotic.” Viney deadpans.

“Okay, fine, if you don’t wanna answer, I don’t wanna ask you if this ‘whey’ thing is healthy or not — I don’t care!” With that, Edric storms out, shutting the door behind him.

“It’s not genetic,” Emira says just as Viney is about to ask whether she should go after the boy. _Wait, ‘whey’... Sounds familiar._

“What?” _Great, Viney, today you’re the What Girl._

“Edric’s idiocy,” Emira clarifies. “Only Ed and Mittens have it. As a middle child, I’ve managed to escape it.” Viney is pretty sure that’s not how genetic illnesses work, but okay. “Hey, love, give me a second, I’m gonna go check if that thing Ed is gonna drink does have dairy after all.”

“Okay!” Viney chirps because, frankly, it’s better than saying ‘what’.

“It’s so good to have a doctor staying over!” Emira gives Viney one final kiss and waltzes out the door.

Immediately, Viney grabs her scroll; but, just as she’s about to check that ‘whey’ thing for its contents, she sees a message from Jerbo. 

Viney is a good girlfriend to Emira, but she is an even better friend to Jerbo. So she immediately opens it.

_ >So I told Edric I’m gonna work out and I think he’s gonna come over to work out with me and we’re gonna be sweaty what do I do? _

Viney chuckles at Jerbo’s very unusual pacing. Coming from a guy who literally spell-checks his messages before sending them, this lack of punctuation is amusing. 

_ >Buy some condoms, _Viney replies.

_ >I AM SERIOUS! _

Viney sighs and ponders on what to do. On the one hand, Viney knows that Jerbo is pining for Edric, and Edric has just revealed that he wants to look attractive for Jerbo. On the other hand, Viney shouldn’t go into the habit of breaking Blight privacy, especially if she wants to become a Blight one day as well. (She does.) Yet, if Auntie Viney doesn’t do anything, those two morons will never get together and the suffering will continue. And Viney does not want her best friend to suffer. (She isn’t sure about Edric though, Emira would love to see her brother suffer.)

Again, Viney’s friendship with Jerbo trumps the rest.

_ >Okay, I have it on good authority that Edric is into you. _

_ >How do you know? Is it a joke? _

_ >No, Jerbo, it’s not a joke. Edric literally told me he wants to work out to look more attractive to you. _

_ >Wow. _

_ >Wow. _

_ >Are you sure? _

_ >Yes, Jerbo, I am sure. Now, he’s gonna come over soon so that’s your chance. You have the knowledge. Use it! Don’t be a doofus. _

_ >Do you even know me?! I am literally the Emperor of Doofuses. _

_ >That’s the spirit! Okay, gotta go, Em is gonna be back soon. _

_ >Good luck with all the sex, Vi! _

Viney almost replies, her fingers hovering over the scroll, but puts the device down reluctantly. Viney isn’t chaste. She isn’t innocent. And Viney can’t help but feel a little selfish. What if Emira is never ready? What if Viney will have to run to the bathroom to, well, have sex with herself after making out with her girlfriend? How humiliating is that?

And perhaps it is in Viney’s interest as Emira’s girlfriend to help Emira fight this? But how? By talking? Viney isn’t a shrink. What if making Emira relive the memories is a horrible idea? It’s all too confusing, it’s too sombre, too hopeless. What if… What if Viney reminds Emira of her ex, and that’s why Emira is like this? Should Viney change her hair style? Her clothes? 

_What should I do?_

Philosophy aside, Viney knows what to do right now. Emira’s well-being takes priority, so if Viney has to wait, she’ll wait. And, well, Viney wants more, but she has to be thankful for what she already has: a girl that she loves more than performing routine check-ups. And that’s saying something. Viney _loves_ performing routine check-ups.

With a sigh, Viney bends over the hidden passion flower that is resting beneath the bed inside a protective magic bubble. “Sorry, buddy, it seems you’re going back to Jerbo’s greenhouse.” 

_______________

Jerbo isn’t sure he’s doing the right thing.

His elbow is clearly hurting, and he is hitting his forehead constantly with the weird human contraption, but the article said ‘to get JACKED you gotta PUMP that TRICEP, bruh!!!’ — and Jerbo is a firm believer in scientific works, even if sometimes humans write them in a very interesting manner. 

Maybe it is the ‘dumbbell’? But then again, the human vendor assured him it was a good brand (‘Bootleg’) and it was made in China, which is one of the human world’s biggest economies, so all items produced there must automatically be high-quality, right?

Perhaps it’s just too heavy? Jerbo looks at the dumbbell and nearly cries. Two kilograms. It’s a tiny, light dumbbell, and weak, pathetic, worthless ugly Jerbo can’t even lift.

Of course Edric doesn’t like him. Ed might be interested in Jerbo’s personality, sure. The two boys have started talking again, and chatting, and videochatting, and it seems they are talking normally like they used to before the disastrous non-date that Jerbo screwed up. 

But Jerbo wants Edric to be interested in him physically too. So perhaps this is Jerbo’s chance, his only chance to put on some muscle and stop being a thin muscleless turd who can’t be attractive to anyone, let alone someone as well-toned and beautiful as Edric.

Jerbo’s scroll vibrates, and the boy is happy for this excuse to put down the dumbbell. Truly it is a ‘dumb’ bell, humans are for once on spot with the name.

Viney has finally replied to his message. Now, Jerbo is someone who doesn’t understand why some witches would take their time responding to texts. Jerbo always replies at once. His scroll is always on his person. That’s basic responsibility, for Titan’s sake! Obviously he’s the only one who does it, but that just means he is literally the only witch with manners. And everyone else is wrong because Jerbo is right.

_ >Buy some condoms, _Viney’s reply reads.

Jerbo blushes intensely and starts typing furiously.

_ >I AM SERIOUS! _

Viney is a good friend, but sometimes… Jerbo gulps, thinking about Edric and condoms and needing condoms with Edric. Edric is the sexiest witch ever, obviously Jerbo will never, ever, ever— 

_ >Okay, I have it on good authority that Edric is into you. _

Jerbo’s train of thought stops dead in its tracks. (Surely humans have the best metaphors.) Viney would never joke about something like that! Why is she… 

_ >How do you know? Is it a joke? _

_ >No, Jerbo, it’s not a joke. Edric literally told me he wants to work_ _out_ _to look more attractive to you._

No way. No way no way no way. Since Viney would _never_ lie to Jerbo like that, there must be some mistake. Edric must be playing a prank. Or… Or… _Why else would Ed jump in so eagerly when I mentioned working out? What if all my screw-ups still haven’t alienated him?_ No, that’s wishful thinking, that sounds too good to be true. Or…

_ >Wow. _

_ >Wow. _

_ >Are you sure? _

_ >Yes, Jerbo, I am sure. Now, he’s gonna come over soon so that’s your chance. You have the knowledge. Use it! Don’t be a doofus. _

Suddenly, Jerbo’s chest feels lighter and he wants to laugh. What if Edric is really… What if he’s really… It feels scary to even consider that. And perhaps Viney is wrong, but right now Jerbo does not want to succumb to anxiety. Instead, he types with a smile:

_ >Do you even know me?! I am literally the Emperor of Doofuses. _

_ >That’s the spirit! _ comes the reply. _Okay, gotta go, Em is gonna be back soon._

_ >Good luck with all the sex, Vi! _

Jerbo chuckles one more time as Viney swiftly goes offline and grabs the dumbbell again. Somehow, it feels much, much lighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edric, can’t you, like, google ‘whey protein allergens’ or, like, look at the list of ingredients?..


End file.
